


The Adventures of Arthur Morgan

by DeansP1e



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Emotional Baggage, Fix It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, and, arthur struggles with faith, dad dutch, dad hosea, dutch makes mistakes, high honor arthur, hurt Arthur, i think it's dead by chap. 9, molly and dutch's relationship is on a decline, no TB, somewhat christian undercurrents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-10-26 14:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansP1e/pseuds/DeansP1e
Summary: Their life has always been rough, but Arthur Morgan had his family behind him to catch him should he fall. Lord help him and his gang if he falls.*Updates randomly*





	1. Colter Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first work in rdr, so please tell me if i get characters and their voices wrong.

By 1899, the age of outlaws and gunslingers was at an end. America was becoming a land of laws...Even the west had mostly been tamed. A few gangs still roamed but they were being hunted down and destroyed.

\------

The cold wind bit at Dutch's face as he stared ahead into the endless white, the reins in his hands stiff as a board. Everything was frozen.

"Abigail's says he's dying, Dutch. We'll have to stop someplace."

He took a moment to respond.

"Okay. Arthur's out looking, I sent him up ahead."

The man nodded and went back towards the tail end of the wagon.

"If we don't stop soon, we'll all be dying," Hosea said, a fearful tone in his voice, "This weather, it's May...I'm just hoping the law got as lost as we did."

"There." He pointed up ahead, then was surprised to see Arthur.

"Arthur! Any luck?"

Arthur let go of his hat, looking up. "I found a place where we can get some shelter. Let Davey rest while he...you know."

Arthur took a breath, while he turned his horse around.

"An old mining town, abandoned, it ain't far. Come on."

"Come on!" Dutch bellowed to the convoy.

\------

The convoy stopped in town, Hosea stepping off of the first wagon.

"I'll see what I can find, hopefully, some medicine if I can," he said, grabbing a lantern, "I'll also see if we can't find a place for Davey to rest."

Dutch nodded, "I'll have Bill and Arthur carry Davey behind you."

Hosea walked up to a house, lighting the lantern along the way. Once he was by the door, he pulled out his revolver, slowly opening the door. It was empty. Satisfied with that, he put his gun away, turning to the convoy.

"Bring him in here," he yelled. He headed inside and started moving a box to the wall. Mary-Beth followed him in, with Bill and Arthur carrying Davey inside. Dutch had followed him in as well.

Dutch waved for the rest of the gang to come inside. Watching their sunken faces, even on Jack, as they walked in, it destroyed and motivated him.

Immediately Susan started handing out orders.

"Miss Gaskill...get the fire lit quick. Miss Jones bring in whatever blankets we have. Mr. Pearson, see what we've got in terms of food." Susan's voice was trembling with seeing everyone's sad eyes. The deaths they had just suffered had made them miserable, and it was high time for them to get some mot-

"Davey's dead," Mary-Beth said.

There was a moment of silence.

"There was...nothing more you could've done."

"What are we gonna do? We need supplies."

Dutch stepped up. "Well, first of all you're gonna stay here...and you are gonna get yourself warm. Now, I sent John and Micah scouting out ahead. Arthur and I, we're gonna ride out, see if we can find one of' em."

"In this?" Arthur quickly waved to the weather, his voice incredulous.

"Just for a short bit...I don't see what other choice we have."

Dutch moved to the others.

"Listen...listen to me all of you, for a moment. Now, we've had...well, a bad couple of days." Dutch stopped for a moment. "I loved Davey...Jenny...Sean, Mac...they may be okay, we don't know."

Another pause.

"But we lost some folks. Now, if I could...throw myself in the ground in their stead...I'd do it...gladly." Arthur turned his head to him and nodded.

"But...we're gonna ride out...and we're gonna find some food." Arthur nodded again, confidently.

"Everybody, we're safe now. There ain't nobody following us through a storm like this one...and by the time they get here...well, we're gonna be...we're gonna be long gone. We've been through worse than this before."

He paused yet again.

"Mr. Pearson...Miss Grimshaw...I need you to turn this place into a camp. We may be here for a few days. Now, all of you...all of you...get yourselves warm. Stay strong. Stay with me. We ain't done yet!"

Finished with his speech, he turned and grabbed a lantern from the table.

"Come on, Arthur." With that, he was out the door. Arthur patted Hosea on the back, and followed him out.

"Alright, we've got some work to do."

Dutch turned to Arthur after he shut the door, clutching at his jacket. The snow was brutal, bearing down on them, making them have to yell to speak.

"Well, we ain't run into them yet. So...they both must have headed down the hill," Dutch said.

"Sure. Hey..." Arthur reached out to Dutch, "I ain't had time to ask. What really went down back there on that boat?"

"We missed you, that's what happened. Come on."

They both started walking when Charles called out to them.

"Hey! You need horses?"

"Oh yeah...and Mr. Smith, get yourself indoors. You need to rest that hand."

Dutch and Arthur both got on their respective horses.

"I'll live."

"Get indoors, son!" Dutch was impressed by his perseverance, but now was not the time. "I...we, need you strong."

"Okay," Arthur said.

They started going at a walk, with Arthur following Dutch.

"Alright. Let's head out."

"Ain't sure what we're gonna find out here, Dutch."

"We have to try. Stay close, we'll do our best to stick to the trail."

"This goddamn weather."

"Been two days or more like this now. Oh, it has to blow over soon."

Arthur didn't reply, instead preferring to ride his horse in silence. They soon got to a bridge, with Dutch saying "Careful over this bridge here."

As soon as they got past the bridge, Arthur spoke. "Can't believe we lost Davey too."

"He's the last one, Arthur, no more. We need to get those people warm and fed."

"Least we don't need to worry about Pinkertons tailing us in this." Arthur's voice had a slight amused tone.

"A couple more days, we'll be on the other side. You need to help me pick the others back up. You're the only one I can rely on to stay strong right now," Dutch said, toning his voice with that affectionate yet determined tone that he only reserved for Arthur, John and Hosea.

"We got fire and shelter, that's a start."

They continued to ride.

"Hey, I think I see something up the path."

Arthur raised his lantern arm with Dutch, and the older man called out.

"You up ahead! Who's there?"

Micah came riding through the fog, snow falling from his hat.

"Micah," Dutch greeted.

"Gentlemen," Micah said, slime seeming to drip from his mouth as he spoke.

"Found anything?" Dutch asked.

"I think so. Found a little homestead down thataway."

"Okay. Anyone home?"

"Sure. Place is blazing with light and noise. Sounded like a party."

"Let's go see."

"Follow me," Micah said, turning his horse back around and leading the way, "How's Davey doing?"

"Ah, he didn't make it. Nor did little Jenny."

"That's too bad, Davey was a real fighter. Both of them Callander boys is, or... was."

"Yeah."

"And Mac and Sean?"

"We don't know."

"Quite a business..."

All of them went silent at that point, the wind picking up and rushing past them with snow. The trees were covered in the stuff, and everywhere they looked, it was just snow.

"I'm glad you're alright, Micah."

"Always."

"Ask him if he's seen John," Arthur said, struggling to be heard over the wind.

Luckily, Dutch heard him. "Hey, have you seen John, Micah?"

"Didn't see much of anything once this storm came in."

"He hasn't seen him," Dutch called back towards Arthur.

"He'll be fine. Things always turn out right for that boy."

"I hope... Mac and Sean are still out there somewhere too. Move up, Arthur, I'll cover the rear."

Arthur nodded, moving past Dutch to the side of Micah.

The rest of their ride was in silence and the ever bearing cold.

"Okay, let's keep it down now, gentlemen. It's just up ahead," Micah said.

"Snuff and stash those lanterns, boys. Best you two lie low on this," Dutch advised, with Arthur immediately doing so and Micah snuffing his lantern a moment later.

"Okay..." Dutch started to say, "let's head down there."

Arthur looked out over the homestead for a bit before following Dutch. That is all he did, after all.

"Let's hitch up here," ordered Dutch, nodding to the post.

They each hitched their horse and stepped off.

"Let me handle this, we don't wanna spook these fine people." Arthur followed Dutch.

"Someone's having fun in there," Micah teased.

"You two," Dutch ordered, "get yourself out of sight...One lonely man is a lot less intimidating than three nasty looking degenerates. Arthur, in that cattle shed on the left. Micah, get down behind that wagon in front."

Arthur headed to the shed in question, and once he was inside, he took cover and waited for Dutch.

"Hello?" He heard Dutch call out, followed by a shush.

"Shut up, Billy! Shh, shh, shh." An unknown man said.

"Excuse me? Hello?"

A man came outside.

"Oh well, hello friend," Dutch greeted warmly.

"What you want?" The man asked.

"I am very sorry to disturb you. Uh, my friends and I, well we got into, some... trouble up the way. Lost in the storm."

Some more men came out.

"Ah, gentlemen," Dutch acknowledged, feeling a bit nervous.

"We can't help you, Mister."

Dutch continued speaking to the man while Micah spoke as softly as he could.

"Arthur...Arthur, we got a problem. There's a corpse right here."

Micah re-covered the body.

"Arthur...There's a body in the wagon."

Arthur sighed. "Yeah, I hear ya, just... keep your eyes on Dutch."

He pulled out his Cattleman revolver.

"I think you should go now, buddy." The man was talking again.

"Now, friend... I ain't asking for much. Please, I am... kinda desperate."

"Hey... I don't believe it. Come here, partner. Come here!" Another man called out.

Arthur stood up out of cover and shot the man in front of Dutch. He shot two more folks and then hopped out of cover.

"Watch out! One up top in the window!" Dutch yelled to him.

Arthur aimed up to the guy and shot him two times. The guy quickly fell over, dead. He also shot two guys on the ground before he had to reload.

He walked over to some cover, getting behind it. There was one guy by the outhouse, so he quickly shot him too.

"We got a runner. You see him, Arthur?" Micah called.

He started running after him, which was hard to do in the snow, but he shot the runner too eventually. That was all of them, so he headed back to Dutch.

"That's my boy, Arthur. Good shooting," Dutch praised in that affectionate tone again.

That tone was gone when he spoke next, "Goddamn O'Driscoll's boys here? Why?"

Micah's voice was faint, "I don't know, maybe same reason as us."

"Micah, go bring the horses closer to the house. Arthur, let's go search the cabin."

Arthur followed Dutch inside, commenting on the smell. "Smells like a party in here."

"Turn the place upside down, grab as many supplies as you can. We need the essentials. Food, medicine... whiskey."

He nodded, grabbing everything that wasn't spoiled, unessential, or both from the kitchen.

"O'Driscolls. I don't believe it." Dutch was talking while he searched.

"It's a strange one alright. Maybe they're hiding up here too. There's a big price on Colm O'Driscoll's head... nearly as big as the one on yours."

"Wanting Colm dead is about the only thing me and Uncle Sam agree on."

As Arthur was searching, his stomach grumbled dangerously. He groaned, "I'm starving."

"You should eat something now. Get your strength up for the ride back," Dutch ordered in a fatherly tone.

He opened his satchel, getting a can of sweetcorn he just put in there out. After he opened it, he greedily ate. He felt much better now. He tossed the can.

"Place is dry, and warm, we could maybe move the women and Jack down here," Arthur said.

"Maybe. We'll see how they are when we get back. I don't really want us to split up."

There was a photo on the fireplace, and, being curious, he picked it up and examined it. It was a wedding photo.

"Looks like the poor bastard was married too, at some point," he commented.

"If we can't eat it or drink it, put it down," Dutch reprimanded.

Arthur quickly put it back where it was.

"Keep searching while I pack these on the horses. Grab anything you think we can use, then meet me out here." Dutch headed outside.

Arthur walked to a back area of the house, before heading up the ladder that was there. Up in this area of the house, there was little of value except for some oatcakes and some revolver cartridges. He headed back down. Looking around some more, he decided there was nothing else of value and headed back out into the cold.

"Micah, Arthur, keep looking for stuff. Arthur, go see if there's anything in that barn. Micah, you search the cabin, see what we missed."

"Sure," Arthur said, walking to the barn. He was reminded of how cold it is when he got past the cabin and the wind got to him.

Opening the door, he got ambushed by an O'Driscoll jumping on him.

"You bastards shot my cousin!"

"Well, he started it!"

They each got up quickly, baring their teeth and fists.

Arthur quickly started hitting the man, until Dutch walked up, saw the commotion, and asked what was going on.

"This guy just jumped me," Arthur responded, still punching the O'Driscoll.

He grabbed him by the throat, while Dutch chuckled.

"Oh, did he now?"

He threw the man to the ground.

"Snaky little bastard... should I kill him?"

"No... Not yet..."

Arthur grabbed the guy, who was still on the floor in fear, again by throat, and starting beating him.

"Find out what they're doing here, and where Colm is."

A hit here.

"Oh, this son of a bitch'll talk..."

Another hit.

"Where's Colm O'Driscoll?"

He threatened the guy with another punch.

"With the others..." Blood was running down the O'Driscoll's mouth, nose, and chin, "at an old mining camp southwest of here, near the lake."

"What are you bastards doing here? Why are you up here?"

"We're fixing to rob some train, gonna blow the tracks. I don't know more than that, I swear!" A tremor was in his voice.

He started beating the guy again, while Dutch chuckled.

"Well, I would say it looks like you have this, Arthur. Do what you want with him, I don't care. But bring that horse when you're done."

He continued beating him with Dutch walking away. The man was dead now, which Arthur hadn't meant to do. Arthur never really liked killing, he thought it was pointless and tasteless.

He didn't realize it, but he dropped his gun. He quickly picked it up, along with his hat.

The horse was going wild now, so he held out his hands and tried to calm it. Opening the gate, he approached it carefully. He reached out and patted the horse.

"You're alright, boy," he said while taking the reins and leading the horse out to Micah and Dutch.

Dutch noticed him. "Is that bastard still in there?"

"He's dealt with."

"Good. That looks like a decent horse, you should keep him. You need to hitch him, he's already skittish."

With that, he lead the horse to the post and hitched the boy up.

There was a noise inside the cabin, followed by a women's scream. Now, Arthur didn't like the noise of women screaming, so he always tried his best to stay away from that. This time, it sounded urgent as Dutch ran inside and started yelling at Micah. Arthur followed him inside, and immediately hated what he saw.

"Oh, look what I found in the cellar," Micah said, even slimier than before, "Wild thing, ain't ya?" Micah was laughing.

"Leave her alone," Dutch reprimanded harshly.

"I wasn't doing nothing. She's one of them O'Driscolls."

"No she ain't, Micah. Look at her. Miss, miss, are you..." Dutch tried to say something, but couldn't when Micah flipped the table on its side, breaking the lantern which caught the house on fire.

"Oh, you fool, Micah," Dutch yelled as he pushed Micah back, "Miss, now it is gonna be okay. We mean you no harm."

Arthur was trying to get Dutch's attention by waving at him, but it wasn't working. The fire was spread into the kitchen.

"Miss! Miss..." he said when the women tried to stab him and he put a hand on her arm, "Come on now, it'll be okay. We need to get out of here, and quick. Come on now."

Dutch had his arm around the lady when he walked out, with Arthur and Micah not too far behind.

"You okay, miss?"

"They came three days ago... and my husband, they..." She started crying.

"Okay, miss. You are safe now... and you can't stay here."

They all looked back on the cabin, completely ablaze by now.

"You come with us," Dutch said, "Arthur."

Dutch handed him the lantern, and Arthur started speaking and walking with her.

"Miss, it's okay, alright? We're bad men but... we ain't them, so... it's okay." He helped the miss onto Dutch's horse, "Get on. We'll keep you safe until you figure what you wanna do."

They started riding back towards camp.

"What's your name, miss?" Dutch asked her.

She didn't respond.

"Miss?"

"Adler."

"Adler?"

"Sadie Adler. Mrs... I... he... he was my husband."

 


	2. Colter Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we'll get into the good stuff next chapter.

The cabin fell apart behind them, the smoke rising up into the sky. They headed back into camp, the wind bearing down on them heavily.

"Hey, somebody's coming!" Lenny exclaimed, cocking his shotgun and aiming, "Looks like it's Dutch." He quickly put it back down. "Hey everybody, Dutch is back."

Some people crowded around him.

"How'd you get on?"

"Micah found a homestead, but... he weren't the first. Colm O'Driscoll and his scum, they beat us to it," Dutch responded, handing the lantern over and getting off his horse. "We found some of them there... but there is more about apparently, scouting a train. Thank you," he said to Lenny.

"That's the last thing we need right now, Dutch," Hosea stated to him.

"Well, it is what it is... but we found some supplies, some blankets... a little bit of food... and this poor soul, Mrs. Adler." He gestured to her, "Miss Tilly, Miss Karen, would you warm her up, give her a drink of something."

Karen and Tilly started walking her over to a house.

"And Mrs. Adler, it's gonna be okay... you're safe now," Dutch said, pointing to her and lowering his voice, "They turned her into a widow... animals."

Dutch caught his breath, "I need some rest. I haven't slept in three days."

Susan came up to him, "You're over here. Miss O'Shea will show you the way."

Molly grabbed onto Dutch's arm and led him. 

"Mr. Morgan, we put you into a room over here."

Arthur was breathing a little heavy, "Thank you, Miss Grimshaw." He stepped away from his horse, and started heading to the house.

"Mr. Bell, you're with the fellers over there."

Micah was confused, "How come Arthur gets a room and I get a bunk bed next to Bill Williamson and a bunch of darkies?"

Hosea sighed. "Get yourself to bed," he reprimanded.

Arthur followed Susan inside of the house he was staying in, and closed the door behind him.

"It's the room over there, Arthur," Susan said, taking off her coat and laying it on a table.

He nodded, "Thank you again, Miss Grimshaw."

"Anything you need, just yell."

He took off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack along with his denim shirt. "That's much appreciated, but it won't be needed. Now, go to sleep already, Miss Grimshaw."

Susan nodded, heading to her room. Arthur did the same, sitting down on his bed and pulling out his journal. He took a second to read through once more before writing a new entry.

" _Hardly the spring I had been hoping for. Hosea and I had been planning a robbery of our own in Blackwater, but I guess that's been abandoned along with most of what I owned. I am profoundly concerned as to what happens next, once we leave this place or the law finds us cowering up here. Found a girl, well a women I should say. Her husband had murdered by some of Colm O'Driscoll's boys. Nasty business."_

On the next two pages, he drew a scene he titled Riding Out. Once he was done, he put his journal away and laid down to sleep.

\------

The next morning, he dressed to go outside and went out the door. Unfortunately, it was still blowing snow all around, but at least it was a little warmer. He heard Susan saying something, so he headed over to the house. He also heard Abby, so he walked inside and shut the door.

"He's strong and he's smart," Abigail was saying.

"Strong at least," Susan retorted.

"Hello, Arthur," Abby greeted.

"Abigail," he acknowledged while catching his breath.

"Arthur... how you doing?" Abigail stood up.

"Just fine, Abigail... and you?"

She paused for a moment. "I need you to... I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry to ask but..."

"It's little John... he's got himself caught into a scrape again," he grumbled.

"He ain't been see in two..." Abigail lowered her voice, "Two days."

He sighed. "Your John'll be fine, he may be as dumb as rocks and as dull as rusted iron... but that ain't changing cause he got caught in some snowstorm."

"At least go take a look," Hosea spoke up, "Javier?"

"Yes?"

"Javier, will you ride out with Arthur," he cleared his throat, "to take a look for John? You're the two best fit men we've got."

"Now?"

"She's... we're all... we're pretty worried about him."

Arthur stared at them from the side.

"I know if the situation were reversed and..."

Arthur shook his head and looked down while Javier stood and walked toward him.

"He'd look for me," Javier finished and held out his gun. Arthur took it while the other man walked past.

"Thank you," Abigail said gratefully.

Arthur nodded and headed out the door. There, Javier was waiting with their horses.

"Look, I know you don't wanna do this, but we have to. Who knows what could've happened?"

Arthur got on his horse.

"Just lead the way, Escuella."

They started heading out of town, with Javier in the lead.

"This way. Last I know, John was headed up the river."

"For all we know, he kept riding north and never looked back."

"He wouldn't leave. Not like that."

They were out of town now, and they ducked down to lessen the effects of the wind. The ride was in silence, the trees shaking down to their roots.

Not long after, Javier saw some smoke at the base of the mountain.

"Hey, I see some smoke. Come on, let's take a look."

"Let's hope it ain't more of O'Driscoll's boys."

Javier hitched his horse after getting there and hopped off into the snow.

"Well... seems somebody left... recently.... and... that way." He pointed off in a direction.

"Sure, well, come on then."

He followed Javier from the campsite after he got back on his horse.

"There's some tracks leading to the river."

The river wasn't too far away.

"Let's cross," Javier said while in the river, "See, they continue up that way."

They both crossed the river, and inside, Arthur was worried.

"Do you think it's John?"

"You tell me. These are horse tracks for sure, but... could be anyone. Let's just see where they lead."

They started to head up the mountain., the wind still bearing down on them.

"So... you were there, Javier, what really happened on that boat?"

"We had the money, it seemed fine, then suddenly they were everywhere."

"Bounty hunters?"

"No, Pinkertons. It was crazy. Raining bullets."

They got to a ravine.

"Take it slow, big ravine here," Javier advised.

He got back to what he was saying, "Dutch killed a girl in a... bad way, but it was a bad situation."

"That ain't like him, though," Arthur said in a confused way. He got close to the ravine, so he looked down into it. Just blackness. He led his horse away.

"They continue along the cliff wall here," Javier commented.

Javier continued speaking as they got to the end and turned around on the other side. "Davey got shot, Mac and John... both shot too. Sean, we don't even know. I'm surprised we even escaped at all. By the time you boys showed up from the other side of town, we were only just hanging on."

They were galloping now that they were past the ravine.

"Bad business, alright," Arthur responded, "Damn snow's coming in hard again."

"We'll lose these tracks if we don't move fast," Javier commented.

They continued galloping, still with Javier in front. They came up to a cliff, with Javier telling Arthur to be careful. They each slowed to a canter.

"Come on, boy," Arthur told his horse. To Javier, he said, "Horses are getting tired."

"Yeah, a lot of fresh snow here."

Arthur was getting more worried. "I don't know about this, Javier. W-we can't follow nothing."

"Let's push on a little bit, maybe we'll pick up the trail again."

Up the mountain they went, with Arthur encouraging his horse. Javier spotted something in the distance.

"Hey, look. Over there, you see that?" He pointed.

They continued on, stopping at the dead horse Javier spotted.

"John was riding that horse when we left Blackwater," he commented.

"Oh... that's..." Arthur felt sad for the horse.

"Let's see if he can hear us." Javier fired two shots from his gun into the air.

They both heard John faintly call out to them.

"Come on... up there!" Javier said.

Arthur let Javier take the lead again as they pushed on. They also heard John calling out again.

"It's coming from up ahead somewhere," Javier said, getting off his horse.

Arthur got off his horse when Javier didn't think they could go much further on the horses. He grabbed his shotgun, just in case of wolves or something.

"Down this way." Javier waved in the direction. Arthur followed him on foot now, the wind making him unsteady. It was steep, and Arthur didn't want to know what would happen if he fell.

"Watch out here," Javier commented on a particularly steep portion.

"Mierda, we're high up here," Javier said.

"You're telling me," Arthur replied.

They heard John again, closer this time and frantic.

"Drops down here, watch yourself." Arthur shivered when he heard that. Being careful, he followed Javier through drops, cliffs and rocks. The wall shielded him from the cold somewhat, but he could tell he was getting low on stamina.

"Up this way."

He climbed up the ledge after Javier.

"Hey! Over here," John yelled.

"That sounds closer now. Come on," Javier said to him. Climbing up another ledge, Javier yelled to John, "We're coming, John!"

There was another ledge followed by a mini cave that was straight through and open on each side.

"Damn! It's cold," Arthur muttered, rubbing his arms.

Once he got in the mini cave, he rubbed his arms again.

"How you doing?" Javier asked.

"I'm miserable," Arthur grumbled, "Been a tough few days."

Javier got out a bottle of whiskey, taking a swig of it. "I know. Here, take a drink of this." Javier tossed him the bottle.

"Thanks," he said gratefully, chugged the bottle and tossed it.

"I'm not designed for this snow..." Javier said.

They pushed on through the cave, the wind catching them when they got out. They started calling out for John, being successful when they heard him. Both Javier and Arthur started running, relieved.

"Over here!" John called.

"Alright. Pipe down, Marston!" Arthur replied. He walked up to edge of the ledge, looking down and saw him. His face was torn up and he was shivering.

"That's quite a scratch you got there," Arthur commented.

John looked up. "Never thought I'd say this, but it's good to see you, Arthur Morgan."

Arthur dropped down. "You don't look so good," he said in a low voice. He straddled him, reaching him to pick him up.

"I don't feel too good neither," John replied, grunting when he got picked up like a sack of potatoes, "I'm freezing."

Arthur put John on the ledge, Javier picking up the slack and moving him back.

"Don't die just yet, cowboy," Arthur told him, climbing onto the ledge.

"Come on, compadre," Javier said while Arthur picked him up again. Arthur followed Javier, with John grunting in pain.

"Well, we can't go back the way we came. Let's try this way," the Mexican said.

"Ain't you a sorry sight?" Arthur teased.

"Can't... argue with you there," John replied.

"See, I told Dutch you weren't the right man for this," Arthur continued.

"I'm sure you did."

Javier asked John if he was alright, with him saying he thought so.

"Come on, hopefully this will lead us out."

Javier led the way again, since John was on his shoulder and all. They pushed through the snow, until they saw wolves up the hill.

"Perfect," Arthur stated and set John down, "I'll distract them while you get the horses. Go, I'll draw 'em offa you."

Javier led John while Arthur stepped forward with his shotgun drawn. The wolves started coming down, so he tried to scare them off by yelling. That didn't work, though, so he aimed at one and shot it. He hated killing wildlife, but it was necessary. He aimed at one of the other two and shot it as well. He reloaded. The last wolf brought him down after tearing at his clothing. He quickly got his gun before it could kill him and shot it two times.

"You got 'em all. Good work, Arthur," Javier praised. He reloaded his gun and put it away.

He ran to his horse with Javier saying to get going. He jumped up and got on, patting his horse to calm him down. He followed Javier and John, galloping.

"I don't feel too good," John whimpered.

"You'll be fine. Just think of it like a... dog bite," Javier tried to comfort.

"I knew a feller, got bit by a dog. Died an hour later," John replied, indignant.

"You ain't gonna die. Not yet."

They pushed on.

"More coming down the hill!" Javier called back to Arthur.

He got out his shotgun again, and aimed at the wolves and shooting them. He reloaded.

"Look out on the left!" Javier called.

He aimed that way and shot the two wolves there. He reloaded again, as fast as he could.

"You see any more, Arthur?" Javier asked.

"Don't think so," Arthur replied.

"Jesus!" John breathed.

"You still with us, Marston?"

"Just about."

"You're gonna be okay. We have some shelter now," Javier said.

John was grateful, and grunting in pain still. "Thanks for coming for me."

"Of course. That bullet in Blackwater, now this? You had a hell of a time."

"And Arthur always say... I'm lucky."

"None of us are lucky right now. We should ride in the water for a bit, try to lose the scent. Don't want to leave a trail right back to camp."

They headed into the water.

"You know, we're gonna need to come up with a better story for that scar," Arthur called over the wind.

"So, freezing, bleeding, starving, damn near getting eaten to death, ain't good enough for you?" John replied.

"Nah, you can do better than that. One thing you ain't short on is fantasy."

They got out of the river, satisfied with losing the scent.

"Yeah... c'mon. Let's push hard and get back," Arthur encouraged.

The rest of the ride was in mostly silence, with a few words from Javier. In town, Javier shouted for someone to get John, with Arthur shouting for help too. They stopped in the middle of town, by the house with Abigail.

"Can we get some help?" Arthur yelled, "We need some help here!"

A few people came out with Abby, and she was extremely relieved while helping John off Javier's horse. He yelled in pain.

"Ay, careful idiotas, it's his leg," Javier said.

Bill helped him inside, with Abby thanking them both. She started telling him off while he was being put down to rest.

"Thank you, Arthur, thank you," Hosea told him.

"You got any other lost maidens need saving?"

He chuckled. "Not today."

Javier walked off one way.

"Have you and Dutch talked about... how we're gonna get out of this?" Arthur asked.

"I was just discussing with Herr Strauss... when the weather breaks I suppose we'll have to keep heading east," Hosea replied, a couple people walking past.

"East?" Arthur's voice was incredulous, "Into all that," he lowered his voice, "That civilization?"

"I know, the west is where our problems are worse."

He sighed.

"Come on, Herr Strauss. Let's get warm," Hosea beckoned him.

"Thank you, Mr. Morgan," Herr Strauss acknowledged as he walked past him with Hosea.

Arthur headed back inside.


	3. Colter Part 3

Arthur sat up in bed, pondering over... things. It's been a rough few days and God damn it, it was May, he wasn't supposed to be cold. He stood up, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He headed to the main area in the house he was in from his room when he heard Hosea talking to Dutch.

Dutch and Hosea acknowledged him when he walked in and pulled up a chair next to them.

"So what now, Dutch?"

"We get strong, we get warm... and we wait. When the storm breaks, we move."

Arthur sat down, listening to the people who raised him.

"But we're safe here," Dutch continued, "Warm enough."

"I guess."

"No Pinkertons at least," Arthur butted in.

"Thank God for that," Dutch replied.

"I just wish those O'Driscolls weren't here," Hosea said, "It'd be a paradise, then."

"Well, it sure ain't Eden," Arthur joked, getting a chuckle from both older men.

"That it ain't, my boy, that it ain't," Dutch said.

Arthur leaned in. "Maybe it's Mount Sinai." He smiled and laughed along with his fathers.

Once they were done, Arthur sighed and stood up, "I trust your judgement, Dutch, always have."

"Thank you, son."

"Well, I suppose I better go see if anyone needs something."

"You're a good man, Arthur," Hosea praised, leaning back.

"I ain't, Hosea."

He tipped his hat and went out the door. Turning right, he walked until he got to the cabin where Micah and Charles were in.

"How you doing, Arthur?" Javier asked.

"Not too bad, I suppose. How 'bout yourself?"

"Doing better now that that idiota John is here."

He chuckled. "I swear, Marston always stays alive no matter what. 'm wondering if God himself is looking out for him. Although, that may be a stretch."

Javier shook his head and chuckled.

"D'you need anything done?" Arthur asked

"No, but you might wanna go inside an' see."

Arthur tipped his hat and headed inside.

"...up with you boys, because I thought you liked action," Micah was saying, "Couple of days on the lam... and you lot have all turned yella. Apart from you, of course."

"Shut up, Micah," Lenny said.

"I ain't never seen so many long faces."

Arthur put more wood in the stove and put his hands out in front of him, warming them. Javier walked inside. Arthur lit a cigarette.

"I guess... I guess folks miss them... that fell," Bill said.

"Well, when I fall, I don't want no fuss."

"When you fall... there'll be a party," Lenny retorted.

Everyone except Micah laughed.

"A party," Bill said in between laughs, "probably."

"That funny, huh?" Micah stood up and walked over to Bill.

"Sure," Bill replied, still laughing.

Micah punched Bill across the head, and turned away. Bill stood and hissed in pain. Seeing Bill start to run towards him, everyone else pulled him back.

"Maybe I don't feel like being laughed at by the likes of you two," Micah said and turned towards him.

Dutch suddenly burst in, "Stop it! Now!"

Arthur, Javier and Lenny let go of Bill.

"You fools punching each other... when Colm O'Driscoll's needing punching, hard. You wanna sit around waiting for him to come find us?"

Arthur headed out the door.

"All of you, we got work to do. Come on," Dutch said, heading out the door.

"Are you sure about this, Dutch?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," the older man immediately responded.

Everyone that was inside the cabin filed out.

"Folks been through a lot recently... we hardly back on our feet yet."

"I know, Arthur, but the last thing we need is to get bushwhacked by Colm O'Driscoll. Let's go."

Arthur sighed, walking with Dutch to their horses.

"I know you hate him, Dutch."

"He's here for us."

"I doubt that."

"No, you're just doubting me."

They got to their horses, taking the reins off the post. Dutch got a rifle from his horse while Arthur walked around his to face Dutch.

"I would never doubt you, Dutch, you... you always said revenge is a luxury we can't afford."

"This is the right call, Arthur." Dutch held out his rifle. "Take this."

Arthur took it, flipping it over and examining it.

"And this is about more than revenge for business long ago."

Satisfied, Arthur strapped it over his shoulder. Dutch grabbed some rope and walked back over to him.

"They were talking about trains and detonators. Here." He handed Arthur the rope and Arthur put it on his side.

"Colm always had good information. Come on," he finished, gesturing to get on his horse and walking back to his horse.

Arthur shook his head and headed for his horse, "And you think now is the right time to hit a train?"

They both got on their horse and Dutch leaned over to him.

"Now you might fancy living on deer piss and rabbit shit... I'm getting too old for that life."

Arthur threw the butt of his cig.

"Mr. Matthews, Mr. Smith, Mr. Pearson..." Dutch yelled, "would you please look after the place... there are O'Driscolls about."

Dutch took off with Arthur and the rest not too far behind.

"Southwest, right, Arthur?" Dutch asked once out of town. The wind wasn't as bad as yesterday.

"Yeah, he said to follow the main trail southwest. They're camped near some lake."

They crossed a river.

"Okay, let's go find these bastards before they find us, and rob this score they're planning."

The trees weren't shaking as bad.

"I trust you, Dutch," Arthur said, "More than anyone in the world."

"Thank you, son. That... means a lot to me," Dutch replied, "But let's focus on the task at hand."

"Sure."

They crossed another river.

"What's that?" Lenny asked.

"Tracks... horses, quite a few of them," Dutch responded.

They pushed on.

"Far as I can tell, the only fools out here are us and them... they must be this way," Dutch continued.

Arthur moved up next to Dutch.

"You good, Dutch?" Arthur asked, somewhat worried about this whole thing.

"Of course. Listen, I know you don't think much of my ideas recently, but this is the right move."

"Okay... you know I got your back."

"I learned a long time ago that you hit Colm O'Driscoll, wait for him and people you love will die."

Arthur sighed. "This feud between you and him... needs to be put to rest, one way or another."

Bill huffed out a laugh. "It will be."

"Some things I can forgive, others I can forget. What he did to Annabelle, I can't do neither."

"You killed his brother, Dutch," Arthur reminded.

"Yes, I did." Dutch's voice was bordering on angry, "And I hope the bastards'll be reunited soon enough. That's how this'll end."

"Damn right, boss," Bill said.

They came up to a hill, with smoke rising behind it.

"See that smoke? Let's cut up here and take a look," Dutch ordered, "They said it was near the lake, so we must be close."

They pushed up the hill, stopping up a bit.

"Hold up here," Dutch said, turning his horse around, "Alright, gentlemen, this is it. Are we goddamn ready?"

"Ready, Dutch."

"Ready."

"Good. Now, Mr. Morgan and I, we're gonna head up here a little." Dutch pointed. "See if we can't get a sense of layout of the camp. Mr. Williamson, Mr. Bell, you two take up a hidden position just outside the camp. Mr. Summers, Mr. Escuella, you two hold position here. Let's go."

All of them got off their horses, going to their aforementioned positions.

Dutch got out his binoculars, kneeling down. Arthur did the same, looking through.

"There they are. That's definitely them," Dutch said.

The camp was ragged, yet full. He saw Colm heading towards his horse.

"Colm?" Arthur wondered.

"I think so..."

"Yeah... that's him."

One of his men reached him, Colm talking to the man angrily.

"Who's he talking to? He don't seem very happy."

"No..."

"Are they leaving?"

"Seem to be. Should we go get 'em?"

"No. Colm can wait. Best to get some of them outta there. And much less fun to rob him and his score if he never finds out about it."

They both put their binoculars away.

"Alright, let's go pay our old friends a visit," Dutch said.

The two of them walked back down to their horses.

"Don't forget to grab that rifle from your horse," Dutch suggested.

Arthur nodded, grabbing it along with some cigarettes that he put in his satchel and his shotgun.

"You boys be ready to pick them off from up there," Dutch continued.

"Sure thing," Lenny responded.

Arthur hurried up the hill to Dutch.

"Seems easiest to take the same path down as Bill and Micah," Dutch said, "Like you said, revenge is a luxury we can't afford."

They started down that path.

"Yeah, I just wasn't sure you agreed with me," Arthur responded.

"Arthur, Arthur, have you completely lost faith in me?" Dutch asked, seemingly taking it personally, "Our needs right now are supplies, equipment and a way out of here. Everything else, including Colm, can wait."

"Okay."

"There's enough of those bastards down there to deal with as it is. Now come on."

Arthur walked next to Dutch, thinking. Why the hell would Dutch think that he has lost faith in him? Dutch has known him for 22 years, hell, he practically raised him!

Eventually, Arthur got in front of Dutch when there was a narrow spot.

"You know, Dutch, you've known me for 22 years now."

"That's right."

"So, why the hell would you think that I've lost faith in you?"

Dutch sputtered. "N-now is not the time, Arthur! I'll tell you later."

He sighed. "Alright."

Eventually they reached the bottom.

"Maybe I should take the lead on this. They're going to be gunning for you," Arthur suggested.

"They ain't got me yet."

"No, but the way our luck's been running..."

"Hush, let's just get down there first."

They walked down some more.

"Follow me, let's head for that building in front," Dutch whispered.

Arthur followed him, hearing some faint voices. Eventually, they reached the building, Dutch telling him to stay low after crouching and pulling out his gun.

"Come on, follow me," Dutch said, with Arthur following him into the building. 

"Okay, let's get in cover," Dutch ordered, getting behind a wall. Arthur did the same.

"So what are we doing, Dutch? I can take this if you want."

"Just make the call. You wanna take the lead? Go."

"Okay, I'll go first."

Arthur took out his rifle, aiming at one of the O'Driscolls in a building. He fired, the man dropping instantly.

"O'Driscolls! You're dead, you sons of bitches!" Arthur yelled, shooting and killing two other men, "I'm moving up, put some fire behind me!" Shooting two other men, he moved from cover to behind a building.

"Stay with Arthur!" Dutch shouted, "There's one up on the water tower!"

Arthur shot another man right front on the building he was hiding behind, and then shot the O'Driscoll on the tower. He moved into another building, reloading along the way. He killed another man that was hiding behind cover.

"Take out those bastards in the cabin," Bill yelled. He did so, running to a ruined cabin and killing the O'Driscoll behind some logs.

"Let's push up!" Arthur bellowed. When he moved out of cover, some bastard shot his right side. He spun and fell onto his back.

"Arthur!" Dutch frantically yelled, running to him while shooting O'Driscolls along the way. Once he was there, he skidded to his knees beside him.

Arthur's breathing was ragged. "D-u-uutch," he struggled to say over the bullets raining down. Dutch grabbed Arthur and laid his head down on his lap.

"You're alright, son. I've got you." Dutch searched Arthur's satchel for a bandage.

"D-utch-hhh," Arthur tried to say.

"Shh, son."

Dutch was frantic when he opened Arthur's jacket, shirt and Union suit and started applying the bandage. Arthur's breathing was short, filled with grunts of pain. Dutch closed up Arthur's clothes and picked him up.

"Keep at it, boys! I'm taking Arthur back!" Dutch's voice was cracking.

Quickly, he ascended the hill and put him on the back of The Count. Arthur's horse ran back to camp when Dutch smacked its behind. Dutch got on his horse and headed back to camp as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after this, it quickly diverges from canon.


	4. Colter Part 4/Horseshoe Overlook Part 1

"Hosea!" Dutch yelled as he rode into camp. Frantically, he searched for the old man, yelling out once more.

Hosea came out of a house.

"I'm coming, Dutch, I'm coming. Don't worry your pret-" Hosea paused as he noticed Arthur on the back of Dutch's horse, crying out in pain.

Hurrying over, he put Arthur on his shoulder. Dutch got off his horse, following Hosea inside of the house they were sleeping in. All of this was done without a word, except for some of the gang members gasping or screaming in shock. Hosea entered Arthur's room and laid him on the bed. Dutch searched around for a health tonic of some sort, rushing over to Arthur once he found it.

"Son, son, drink this," Dutch said, putting the tonic to his lips.

Arthur gasped it down, pausing every once in a while to cough. Hosea left the room and came back with a couple chairs.

"Thank you," Dutch acknowledged, sitting down next to the old conman, who nodded as a reply. Dutch pushed Arthur's hair out of his face.

The door creaked open, revealing Abigail with a sad face. Hosea waved her in, his face full of fear.

"S-so, what happened?" Abigail asked, sitting down on the floor.

"Some O'Driscoll bastard shot him," Dutch replied angrily. Abigail gasped while Hosea clenched his jaw.

"D-duu-tchhh," Arthur gasped out, reaching out for him, "W-wh-ere a-are y-yo-u?"

Dutch took his hand, gripping it tightly in either reassurance or for his own sake.

"I'm right here, son. I ain't leaving," Dutch reassured, "It is time to rest, now."

Slowly, Arthur's eyes closed and his breathing evened out, however shaky it is. Dutch sighed heavily, closing his eyes as well.

"He'll be alright, Dutch. Nothing can bring this man, no, our son down," Hosea said, putting a hand on Dutch's shoulder.

"I'll tell everyone else, okay?" Abigail asked, standing up. Hosea brought his hand back down.

Dutch opened his eyes and looked at Miss Roberts in the corner of his eye.

"If you would." Dutch nodded, looking at the wall.

Abigail rushed out the door, closing it behind her.

"So what do we do now, Dutch? I mean, we can't bring him to a doctor here," Hosea asked.

"I don't know. I need more time."

"We may not have a lot of time, Dutch."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about." There it was, a small moment of weakness.

A beat of silence. The snow glistened outside.

"Maybe... we should get off this mountain? The weather has broke now."

"That's it! Tomorrow, we get out of here," Dutch exclaimed, a grin on his face. It quickly fell as he wondered where a doctor could be.

"I know of a place we could go, Dutch. It's called Horseshoe Overlook, down in the Heartlands."

Dutch nodded, "Yes, that will do. Any towns nearby?"

"A livestock town named Valentine, full of cowboys, outlaws... working girls. Seems like our kind of place."

Dutch chuckled. "Perfect."

Hosea looked outside.

"It's still light out, if you want to tell everybody."

"No. I want to stay by my dear boy."

"I understand, Dutch. I'll go out."

"Thank you, Hosea."

There was a hell of a weight behind those three words that made Hosea pause. It didn't seem it was just about notifying everyone about leaving, it seemed more.

"Anytime, Dutch."

\------

The next morning came by, and with it, Arthur with a clearer head and Dutch still sleeping on a chair next to him. When he tried to move, his side twinged, the muscles there contracting and expanding. He cried out.

Dutch startled awake by his cry. He quickly stood up and searched the room and Arthur's satchel for a health tonic. He found it in the satchel, opening it and putting it to Arthur's lips while calming him down.

Arthur chugged it down frantically, the pain fading as he drank and calmed down. He breathed heavily, sweat forming on his brow.

"You're alright, son. You're safe now," Dutch said. He took out his pocket square, unfolded it and wiped Arthur's brow.

"Thank you," Arthur breathed out.

The older man nodded, folding his pocket square back up and putting it back in his vest. The door opened, Hosea walking through.

"I heard a shout, is everything alright?" Hosea asked, panicking somewhat.

"It is now, Hosea," Dutch reassured.

Hosea put a hand over his heart, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He walked over, sitting down in the left over chair.

"Miss Grimshaw is putting everyone to work, getting those wagons set up," Hosea notified both of them.

"We're leaving?" Arthur asked.

"Well, you need a doctor, don't you, my boy?" Dutch replied.

"Nah, I ain't that important."

"I certainly think you are, and I'm sure Hosea here does as well."

"That's right," Hosea said.

"It's only a bullet wound, I've had those before," Arthur tried to convince.

"And they're most likely still in you, I imagine," Hosea said sternly.

Arthur looked away sheepishly.

"We are leaving this mountain, whether you like it or not," Dutch said, "This is for your own good, son."

Arthur sighed, "Well, I suppose I'd better help."

Arthur tried to sit up, but couldn't when Dutch's hand pushed him back down.

"You will rest, Arthur, until we're packed," Dutch reprimanded, "Speaking of, Hosea, would you please pack up our dear boy's things?"

Hosea nodded, standing up and starting on that.

"Now, I," Dutch started, standing up as well, "will go foresee the packing."

Dutch walked out the door.

"You know, Arthur," Hosea said, grunting when he picked up the full chest, "If you wanted to help, I wouldn't tell Dutch."

Arthur grinned, sitting up and pulling out the box under his bed. He picked it up, opening it to remind himself of the contents. Inside were some revolver cartridges, shotgun shells, and some rifle cartridges. Also inside was a locket and a gold wedding ring. He kept it open, standing up painfully. Hosea headed out to the wagons with the chest.

"Alright, let's see what I can fit in here," Arthur muttered, looking around. On the dresser was a picture of Eliza, Isaac, and him. He walked over there, setting down the box and swapping it with the picture. He ran his thumb over Eliza's face in the picture, allowing himself a moment of weakness. The door opened again, so he quickly put it in the box. Hosea walked over to him, seeing the picture over his shoulder.

"Oh, Arthur," Hosea spoke softly, putting an arm over his shoulders.

Arthur closed his eyes, a single tear running down his cheek. He hurriedly wiped it away. He shut the box, handing it to Hosea, who walked out the door with it and a chair, which he folded up.

Arthur walked back to the bed, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. He sat there until Hosea told him that the wagons are done.

"Thanks." He stood up, walking out with Hosea and putting his hat on.

Dutch was leaning on a wheel, standing straight when he saw the two.

"Arthur! You're in that one, bring Hosea," Dutch pointed to the last one, Arthur and Hosea heading to it while Dutch spoke, "I know you two like to talk about the good old days and what's gone wrong with old Dutch."

Arthur sat on the left, while Hosea was on the right.

"Are you really sure you should be driving, Arthur?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Alright."

They headed out, getting to a waterfall and crossing.

"You gotta keep us moving, but calm," Hosea advised.

Suddenly, the wheel broke, stopping the wagon.

"Ah, shit!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Okay... let's take a look," said Hosea.

"You alright back there?" Bill shouted.

"Does everything look alright?" Arthur sarcastically replied. The two of them climbed down, heading for the back of the wagon.

"Well, what's going on?" Charles asked.

"I broke the goddamn wheel," he grumbled.

"Alright, let's get it fixed," Hosea said. Arthur moved to the wheel.

"You need help?" Charles asked.

"I reckon we can handle it," Hosea replied.

Arthur painfully lifted the wheel up, letting out grunts of pain.

"Alright Charles, you and me hold the thing up while you try and put the wheel back on, Arthur."

He rolled the wheel to the axle, going back and forth with Hosea. He lifted it up and put it on the axle. He bashed it on three times painfully, and after he did so, he held his shoulder, letting out a hiss. He examined it, finding it to be satisfactory.

"See... you ain't so useless after all," Arthur teased Hosea.

Hosea chuckled, bending down to pick up a chest. "Not quite."

Charles and Hosea loaded the wagon back up, while Arthur got out a wrench and tightened the nut with a groan.

Hosea looked towards a cliff, seeing three Native Americans on horseback.

"What you think?" Arthur asked softly.

"If they wanted trouble, we wouldn't have seen them," Charles replied.

Hosea held his hand up in a greeting but they didn't respond.

"Poor bastards, we really screwed them over down here," Hosea said, "Come on, let's not push our luck."

"What happened?" Arthur asked.

"Well, get in, and I'll tell you."

Arthur and Hosea got back to where they were sitting, with Charles sitting on the back. They pushed on, Hosea telling the story to them.


	5. Horseshoe Overlook Part 2

The sun beating down on their necks, they rode into camp. Dutch called out to them as soon as they stopped the wagon.

"You weren't wrong, Hosea. This place is perfect."

Hosea and Charles got off the wagon before he did, Hosea saying he hoped so while he did.

"Gentlemen, we have survived."

"For now."

"Now it is time to prosper."

Arthur and Hosea walked up to the table Dutch was about to sit at.

"Arthur and I were about to prosper in Blackwater," started Hosea, holding out his arms, "We were on to something big... then Micah got you all excited about that ferry and here we are."

Dutch looked up at Hosea as Arthur shuffled about.

"We have all made mistakes over the years, Hosea," Dutch said, standing up, "every last one of us. But I kept us together... kept us alive... kept the nooses off our neck."

Dutch started to walk off, Hosea and Arthur following behind him. Hosea caught up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he walked.

"I guess I'm just worried. I ain't got that long, Dutch. I want folks safe before I go."

"Me too."

They stopped walking, Dutch putting his foot on a box.

"And now we are stuck... east of the Grizzlies and out of money... and a long way from our dream of virgin land in the west."

"I know, my brother, but we are safe. Ain't no Pinkertons nor bounty hunters after us."

"I guess you're right, but what about money?" Arthur piped up and asked.

"Gentlemen, I'm going to go into the local town, and you know. See if I can strike up a little business," Herr Strauss told them.

"Of course, Herr Strauss," Dutch replied, waving him off, "I prefer robbing banks to usury, seems more dignified somehow."

Dutch removed his foot from the box.

"Now, everyone put your tools down for a moment," he started, moving with Hosea and Arthur to the back of his tent, "Come on, gather round, quickly now."

He waited until everyone was there.

"I know that things have been tough, but we are safe now, and we are far too poor. So it is time for everyone to get to work."

"Get to work, but stay out of trouble," Hosea piped up, "Remember, we are itinerant workers."

"Laid off when they shut down our factory to the north," Dutch continued, "Now, get out there, and see what you can find. Uncle, Reverend Swanson... no more passengers."

A few chuckled at that.

"It is time for everyone to earn their keep."

"There is a town a little way down the track... name of Valentine... live stock town. All mud and morons if I remember right. That seems like a decent place to start," Hosea said.

"And... we need food... real food," Pearson spoke, "that means every day, one of you."

Dutch got out what he dubbed the 'camp box', setting it down on a barrel.

"And, remember, whatever it is that you find... the camp gets its slice. Now, be sensible out there," Dutch finished.

The gang dispersed.

Susan came up to Arthur, "Now, the girls have your tent ready, Mr. Morgan, come with me. You two will be ready shortly."

She walked with Arthur, speaking with him along the way. Once he got settled on his cot, he got out a cigarette, lighting the match on his boot. He set it in his lips, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. Every once in a while, he took a drag without lifting his arms. When he was done, he threw the butt and stood up, getting out of his heavy coat. He noticed a hook on the outside support of his tent, so he hung it up there. He sat back down, nodding to Hosea, who had walked over to him.

"How's your side?" Hosea asked.

He grunted in response.

"That good, huh?" Hosea cracked a smile.

"How's your back, old man?" Arthur teased.

The older man chuckled, leaning on the rickety table in front of Arthur.

"At least I'm not dim-witted."

"Still too quick for me, pa," Arthur grumbled.

Hosea chuckled again, standing up straight.

"Come on, I've got something for you," Hosea said, waiting until Arthur stood up and walked with him to his tent.

Hosea bent down, putting his hand on a box and grabbing something. He stood back up, turning around and holding out a bottle.

"Kentucky bourbon, the finest I could find," Hosea said. Arthur took the bottle and put it in his satchel.

"Why, thank you."

"How about you share some with Sadie? I reckon she's still feeling down."

"Sure."

Arthur walked away, heading towards Sadie, who was on a rock on the edge of camp.

"Miss Adler?"

Sadie's eyes were blank, and slowly filled with recognition as she saw him. She sniffled.

"Yeah?"

"You want some bourbon?"

She sniffled again, patting the rock next to her and nodding. He got out the bourbon, handed it to her and sat down.

Arthur could tell she didn't want to talk, and so he didn't talk. Just silence between two sad and angry people.


	6. Horseshoe Overlook Part 3

The next morning came with a beautiful sunrise as it rose over the cliff. Arthur's head pounded. He was laying face down in his cot, one of his arms hanging down with the bottle of bourbon in his hand. He grumbled, deciding to get up. He turned in the cot, spilling some of the bourbon on himself when he brought his arm around.

"Shit," he grumbled, tipping the bottle upright as soon as he could.

He sat up, looking for the damn cork. He found it on his table, grabbing it and corking the damn bottle already. Speaking of the table, he set the bourbon on the table and stood up, wiping his eyes. Mary-Beth walked up to him, a coffee in her hands.

"How are you doing, Arthur?" She asked.

"'m just fine," Arthur grumbled.

"I heard about how you got shot, are you okay?"

"Sure. It was just a slip up, no need to worry."

"Well, I guess if you're sure."

"Yeah."

A beat of silence.

"Oh! Dutch told me to tell you that we caught an O'Driscoll."

He made a confused noise in the back of his throat, his brow furrowing.

"Apparently he was running away towards our camp, so Bill thought it best to catch him, in case he knew something."

He nodded.

"Name?"

"He said it was Kyran? Keeran? Ask him, I didn't much listen," she said sheepishly.

He chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sure. If you don't mind, 'm gonna get leftover stew."

"See you later!" She smiled, and walked off.

He reached up to tip his hat, only to realize it wasn't on his head. He looked around, finding it under his cot. He put it on, walking to the stew pot.

"Morning, Arthur," Tilly greeted.

He tipped his hat in a response, grabbing a bowl and pouring some stew into it. Heading to the table in front of Pearson's area, he took a bite. Honestly, it was crap. It was food, though, so he wouldn't complain. He set the bowl down on the table, sitting down next to Charles.

"Good morning," Charles said with a small smile. He had coffee in front of him.

"How're you?" He asked, taking a bite after.

"I'm doing fine, if a little tired. You?"

He took another bite.

"Me too. Mind giving me a sip of that coffee?"

"Sure thing," Charles said, handing the coffee over.

He took a sip of coffee, sighing in relief afterwards.

"Thanks," he said, sliding the coffee back over.

"No problem. Maybe we could go hunting later? I know a good area."

He finished his stew, tipping it back.

"Maybe now? I ain't got anything to do right now, Miss Grimshaw won't let me do stuff."

Charles laughed.

"Alright, just let me pack up Taima."

Charles stood up with Arthur, walking to where he was sleeping and grabbing some extra arrows. Arthur, however, headed to his own tent and grabbed the bourbon and his ax. He walked to the horses, seeing Charles there already.

Charles smirked when he saw the bourbon, getting on his horse.

"What?" Arthur asked, putting the bottle in a saddlebag and the ax, he put on his back. He mounted his horse.

"You know," Charles started, moving his horse out of camp with Arthur, "you should name your horse."

They went left, starting down the hill. Arthur scoffed.

"Don't know what to call him."

"Hmm... perhaps Storm? A magnificent name for a magnificent horse."

They started heading northwest towards the West Grizzlies, with Arthur by Charles' side.

"Sure," Arthur said, patting his horse when he heard him huff.

"What's up with you lately, by the way? When we got to Colter, it seems like you were being nicer. And it wasn't just then, it's now, too."

"I am?"

"Yeah, I saw you last night with Sadie. Normally you don't share alcohol."

"That's because Hosea asked me to."

"What about when you went off to get John?"

"Abigail was worried sick."

"...Well, alright. I won't bother you about it."

The rest of the ride was in silence, mostly. The sound of the light wind, the rushing water of the Dakota River, wildlife making noises... Arthur singing.

" _Did I hear a thunder_ _... Did I hear you break... I can't quite remember... Just what guided me this way."  
_

Charles looked at him, then looked forward again.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"You sing well."

Arthur looked away with a huff, making Charles chuckle.

Eventually, they got to the West Grizzlies, the two of them stopping on a ridge.

"We should make camp here," Charles said, getting off his horse.

"Sure." Arthur got his horse too, taking the ax from his back.

"Come on," Charles said, waving forward, "let's go find a tree."

They walked together, finding a small tree after a while.

"Alright, this is perfect," Charles started, "Chop it down, Arthur."

He nodded, taking the sheath of the blade and starting on felling the tree. Sweat dripped from his face after a while, the sun bearing down on him. The tree finally came down.

"Timber!" Arthur sarcastically yelled, laughing a little after.

Charles chuckled, "Let's get this back to camp."

Arthur put the sheath back on his ax and put it on his back. The tree was about 20 feet in length and about one foot in diameter, and Arthur picked up the lighter end with a grunt, Charles on the other end starting to move. It was hard work getting it to camp, since Arthur guessed it was about 700 pounds. After that was done, Arthur set to work stripping the tree of any limbs.

"My guess is that this is pine," Charles said, gathering the twigs that Arthur cut off.

"That's what I was thinking too," he replied, moving back to the bottom end to chop it into logs.

It was easy to talk with Charles, he didn't have to be someone he wasn't. He felt like he could trust him with his weaknesses and his sorrows, more than Dutch really.

"Once you get done," Charles said, getting the fire going, "you want to get a couple rabbits?"

"Sure," he grunted out, continuing his work.

He worked long into the afternoon, wiping his forehead when he was done. He took the last swig of bourbon, which Charles had handed him when he noticed Arthur breathing too heavily, throwing the bottle away. He walked over to Storm and put the ax on his horse. Charles gathered the logs into a pile next to the fire.

"Grab the bow from Taima. If you use a gun, you'll scare every animal around for miles," Charles told him.

He headed over to Taima and took the bow and some arrows.

"You can keep the bow, by the way. It was getting old anyway."

"Thanks," he said, putting the bow over his shoulder and the arrows in his satchel. He headed out, scanning the area for rabbits. He squatted, looking down and seeing some rabbit tracks.

"Alright, let's see you," he muttered to himself, taking the bow out and notching an arrow. He sneaked until he saw a few rabbits. He slowed his breath, drawing back. He released an arrow into the rabbit's head, the group running off scared. He stood up, walking over to the one he shot. He picked it up, putting it in his satchel. He did the whole process over and headed back to camp.

"Welcome back," Charles greeted.

"Hey," he replied, removing the two rabbits from his satchel.

"Nice job," Charles praised, "I forgot I had some oregano and thyme in my saddlebag."

Arthur chuckled. "Nice."

"Alright, get those rabbits over here."

Arthur nodded, walking over to the fire. He handed the rabbits to him, Charles getting to work preparing the meat.

"Can I tell you something, Charles?" Arthur asked, sitting down.

"Of course," he said, not looking up.

"I guess I... I'm afraid," he said weakly, tears welling up.

Charles looked up at that, stopping what he was doing.

"Of what?"

"Of losing this gang, this family. It's all I ever had."

"Well," Charles started, "when the time comes, I'll be by your side. No matter what."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hc arthur's singing to be like christian larsson.  
> here's the song arthur was singing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Za2Ijm7Am5Y


	7. Horseshoe Overlook(i guess) Part 4

The rabbits tasted delicious with the oregano and thyme. The night came sooner than Arthur expected, the approach like an elk being chased by a predator.

"Looks like it's time to sleep," Charles said, looking up. Arthur captured this image in his mind, keeping it fresh.

"Right," Arthur replied, heading to his tent. He got out his journal, starting to write. 

> _"Today, me and Charles returned to the West Grizzlies to hunt... something. Charles wouldn't say, but I'm guessing deer or elk. We're camped on a ridge near Mt. Hagen, and the view is beautiful. Maybe I could get away from all of this gang business? A guy can dream, anyway._ _In other news, we got off the mountain yesterday and now the gang's holed up at Horseshoe Overlook. Dutch has that sparkle in his eye again after getting out of that cold. I haven't spoken to everyone yet, but it seems they're happier. I also named my horse Storm. The only way this could be better is if I ~~had Issac~~  had money."_

He turned the page and drew Charles looking up into the sky, which he titled  _"The best out of all of us."_ He laid down to sleep after putting his journal away.

The next morning came up quicker than the night yesterday, and he woke up with a twinge in his side and a groan. It appeared as if Charles was already awake, judging by the fact that his tent was gone and loaded up on his horse.

"Come on, Arthur," Charles said, adjusting the straps on Taima.

He sat up with a hand at his side, breathing in sharply.

"Alright, give me a bit," he grunted, breathing through the pain. Once he got over it, he stood up and walked over to Storm.

"Hey, Arthur, catch," Charles said, tossing a bag of thyme at him.

He caught it, putting it in his satchel after thanking him. He got on his horse, Charles doing the same.

"So, what are we hunting anyway?" Arthur asked when Charles started heading out, with Arthur following him.

"Elk," Charles responded.

"I figured that," Arthur said.

"Did you now?"

"Yeah. Even wrote it in my journal."

"Nice."

They stopped at Barrow Lagoon when they saw an elk on the other side. Arthur fell silent as he got off his horse and headed over to a broken tree with his bow. He looked over and saw a lock box.

"Let's see you," Arthur muttered while picking the lock on it. Opening it revealed a miracle tonic and $44. He put both in his satchel.

Charles reached him, pointing over to the elk.

"You see that?" Charles whispered.

"Yeah," Arthur replied quietly.

"Take it down."

He nodded, taking out his bow and notching an arrow.

"Carefully, now."

Arthur slowed his breathing, releasing when he breathed out. The arrow went into the elk's neck, the elk dropping soon after.

"Good job, I'll go get it," Charles said, walking back to his horse and getting on. He rode off.

Arthur got out his journal, turning to a new page. 

> _"I was right, we was hunting elk. We stopped when we saw one across Barrow Lagoon, at least I think this is what this is called. Beautiful elk, huge antlers. I almost felt bad for killing it, it's a shame. Charles told me 'good job', so I don't know what to feel. I need more arrows, I only have 4 right now. When we get back to Horseshoe, I'll go into the local town, see about getting arrows."_

On the next page, he drew the elk in all its glory with the sun shining on it. When Charles got back, Arthur put the journal back in his satchel.

"You think it's time to head back?" Charles asked, with the elk on Taima's backside.

"Sure," Arthur said, putting his bow away on his horse when he got to him.

"I reckon this oughta feed us for a few days."

He got on his horse, leading the way back at a trot.

"Right."

"I had some trouble putting him on Taima, but I managed."

"I coulda helped if you needed it."

"It's fine, Arthur."

"If you say so."

"If I need help, I'll come find you. You don't need to worry."

He sighed. "Alright."

Out of the snow they went past Cattail Pond. After a while, they were on the trail up to Horseshoe Overlook. John was on guard duty right now.

"Who's there?" John called.

"It's me," Arthur said loudly as they went past, and in the next moment muttered, "you dumbass."

Dutch was leaning on the hitching post, and smiled when they came up to it.

"Well boys," Dutch said, standing up straight and holding his arms out, "I've found a score."

Arthur and Charles each got off their horse, and Arthur started helping Charles with the elk.

"Did you now?" Arthur asked, grunting when they got it off Taima.

"Why, yes. It's another train," Dutch said as they walked it to Pearson's.

"What's on it?" Arthur grunted out as they put it on his table.

"I hear there's going to be Army payout, supposed to be over $5,000."

Arthur turned toward him, raising a brow.

"And you want the Army after us? Is that how it's gonna be?"

"Arthur, don't you understand? This is our chance to be free, and if we don't take it now, then we're never going to be free. I need you for this. I need you with me."

Arthur sighed.

"Whatever you say, Dutch."

Dutch clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"Good man, I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning."

Dutch walked away, leaving Arthur to his thoughts. He spotted Hosea by his tent waving him over. Arthur headed over there, bending his head down a little.

"How do you feel about this Wallace Station business?" Arthur asked lowly.

"I'm not too sure. Dutch is thinking clearer, but Micah gave this idea to him. And you know how good Micah's ideas are," Hosea responded just as lowly.

"I don't trust Micah, he seems suspicious."

"I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thank you."

Hosea nodded and started walking away until Arthur grabbed his arm, releasing it when Hosea turned around.

"And when the time comes for us to leave, will you help us?" Arthur continued.

"Who's us?"

"Right now, just Charles and I, but I need money. I don't who else will go with us."

"I'll ask around."

Arthur sighed in relief, his whole body finally relaxing. He looked down.

"Thank you, Hosea." Arthur looked up again. "For everything."

"You're welcome, Arthur."

Hosea smiled at him, walking away. Arthur went into his tent, putting his overcoat away and sitting down on his cot.

\------

A couple weeks later, Arthur woke up and put on his hat, walking a bit out of his tent. Hosea was walking up to him with a cup of coffee.

"Arthur."

"Hosea."

Hosea handed him the coffee, chuckling a little bit and started walking a bit.

"Quite a day," Hosea said, putting his arms out.

"Let's hope so," Arthur said, taking a drink of coffee.

"There's a bunch of the boys already in Valentine." Hosea scratched his forehead and stopped. "Bill, Charles and Javier."

Arthur yawned, rubbing the side of his face. Hosea walked back around, facing him.

"And Swanson found something... down at the train station by the lake apparently. And Strauss came back with that creepy little smile on his face."

Arthur took another sip of coffee.

"I'm sure there's a whole list of unfortunates he's forced money upon," Hosea finished.

Arthur chuckled, Hosea starting to walk off. He finished his coffee, leaving the cup on his table.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, "And you?"

"I'm gonna read a book."

Arthur cleared his throat and sighed. He walked over to his shaving area, shaving his beard and mustache down to a stubble, which showed his chin scar.

He needed to get some pomade.


	8. Horseshoe Overlook Part 5

He walked over to the camp fund box, remembering that he still had a bit of money left over from when he robbed a rich man passing through Twin Stack Pass. He donated $20 of his $193 to the camp, Dutch saying that's what he liked to see. He walked to the stew pot after he nodded to Dutch.

"Morning, Arthur," Lenny greeted from his position over the pot. He watched Lenny pour some stew into his bowl.

"How you doing, Lenny?" Arthur asked as Lenny made room for him to get stew.

"Just fine. How 'bout you?"

He poured some stew into a bowl.

"Good."

"I'll see you around, then."

"Sure."

He walked over to the table, setting his bowl down and sat facing the cliff.

"Say, Arthur," Karen started, sitting down next to him.

He took a bite, not looking to her.

"Do you wanna take some of us girls into Valentine for a bit?"

He took another bite, thinking for a bit. He lifted his bowl and downed the rest of it.

"Sure," he said, wiping his mouth with his bandanna. He stood up after Karen, walking to Uncle, who was sleeping while leaning on a wheel of the wagon. Karen was excitedly telling the ladies about Arthur taking them.

He kicked Uncle in the leg.

"Ow! Oh, whoa, whoa," Uncle exclaimed, startling awake.

"Careful not to work yourself to death there, Uncle," Arthur teased. Uncle stood up.

"I was thinking."

"Does it pay well?"

"Eventually," Uncle replied, Arthur giving him a pat on the shoulder. Arthur started walking with him, resting a hand on Uncle's back.

"So, while the rest of us are busy stealing, killing, lying, fighting to try to survive... you get to think all day."

"It's a strange world we live in, Arthur Morgan."

Arthur shook his head.

"Do you wanna head into town... see if we can find anything out?"

"Sure, I got some errands to run."

"Great," Arthur said, pointing to the front of the wagon, "Go check the horses are ready."

Uncle groaned, walking to get the horses. He got out a cigarette, lighting a match on the bottom of his boot and lifting it to the cig. Karen, Tilly and Mary-Beth walked up to the wagon, all smiling slyly to him.

"What?" Arthur asked dryly.

"Oh, nothing," Karen said sweetly.

"What you gals up to now?"

"Nothing," Karen said, helping Tilly and Mary-Beth into the wagon.

"Sure," he said, walking around the wagon and inspecting it. Karen got in.

Once he was satisfied, he got onto the seat of the wagon, Uncle and the girls going back and forth.

"Alright, out through the trees here and take a left," Uncle said.

"I know, Uncle, I've been to Valentine before," Arthur replied.

They headed out, going at a nice pace.

"I'm just making sure."

After a while, Uncle turned to the ladies and told them to 'sing us a song'. The song they chose was one Arthur, admittedly, hadn't heard in a while. They got to the train tracks, Uncle pointing out the way a coach was swerving.

"Oh, goddamn it! Oh shit, the horses," the stranger exclaimed.

Arthur pulled up beside him.

"Is one of you gonna get that feller's horse?" Tilly asked.

"Oh, I got lumbago, it's very serious," Uncle scoffed.

Arthur hopped down, grumbling about Uncle's lumbago. He walked over to the man who was getting down.

"You alright there, friend?" Arthur asked.

"Oh hey, you couldn't help me get my other horse back from over there, could ya?" The man asked.

"Sure, no problem," he told the guy, walking off to the white Arabian after. The ladies cheered him on.

Arthur started to calm the horse, walking slowly toward him. Once he got close to him, he patted the horse and grabbed the reins when the horse wasn't spooked by him.

He led him back to the stranger, the man telling him that he's a gentleman.

"No, not really, I was just... trying to impress the women."

The man chuckled.

"Well, anyway, thank you."

Arthur got back on the wagon, driving away.

"You're turning into a regular old fairy godmother there, Arthur," Uncle teased.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur asked indignantly.

"It means you got a heart," Mary-Beth started, "A small one, perhaps, hidden deep inside, but a real one. And you haven't, you repulsive old lizard."

"Lizards have hearts!"

"Well, Arthur, I'm proud of you," Tilly said.

"To be honest," Arthur said, slowing down because of a train, "if you lot hadn't been here... I probably woulda robbed him."

They chuckled.

"Well, you didn't!"

They moved to the stables, parking outside it. Once they were stopped, the ladies got down first, followed by Uncle and Arthur.

"Uncle, what're we doing?" Arthur asked, heading to the back of the wagon.

"Well, we're gonna do what any self-respecting maniac does... put the women to work," Uncle said, walking up to him.

"With pleasure... we'll start at the saloon," Karen said.

"Okay, just stay outta trouble and don't get yourselves noticed," Arthur replied. The ladies headed off.

"Right, I-I need to get something from the stores," Uncle told him.

"Okay, well we'll see you at the general store when you're done," Arthur called after the ladies.

"Come on," Uncle waved on.

"So that's how you see yourself, is it? A maniac?" Arthur said, walking with Uncle.

"Well, in my youth, I used to by known as the 'one-shot kid'."

"Okay, I'm not gonna ask why."

"You are a sad man, Arthur Morgan. But I know you love me."

They headed up the steps.

"Desperately... you're my favorite parasite. No... ringworm's my favorite parasite, you're my second favorite parasite," Arthur started, the two of them stopping in front of the door to the general store.

"Very funny."

"I lied... ringworm, then rats with the plague, then you."

"Shut up... this is the place, now. Come on."

The two of them headed in.


	9. Horseshoe Overlook Part 6

The rest of their time in Valentine was as normal as it could be when he had to save Tilly and Karen from two guys who didn't know women aren't meant to be trifled with, and some man from Blackwater recognized him. He had chased the man, Jimmy Brooks, of course, and he probably shouldn't have saved him, but he made sure to write the guy's name in his journal. After that whole mess, he went to the saloon to have some drinks with Bill, Charles and Javier. It had quickly dissolved into a bar fight after Bill came in and punched a man. His fight with Tommy was... tough, to say the least. He was glad that someone was able to fight him and not get knocked out in two hits, but at the same time, he was struggling not to get knocked out himself. He had walked away after someone named Thomas Downes pulled him off of Tommy. He met with Josiah and Dutch before washing himself up and getting Sean.

The next week was spent getting Reverend Swanson, who immediately passed out when he landed in his tent, and Micah, and going on hunting trips with Charles, which made the two of them get to know each other a lot more. He also went on debt collecting trips for Strauss, and speaking of which, he was currently heading to the Downes ranch.

"You, uh, whatever do you want?" Thomas asked from his garden when he saw Arthur riding up.

Arthur got off his horse and walked to the fence, shaking his head when he saw Mr. Downes backing up and raising the rake.

"I'm here to collect the money you took from Herr Strauss," Arthur replied, leaning on the fence.

"I-I don't have it."

"Now, why should I believe you?" Arthur faked for the gate, making Downes drop his rake.

"I needed it for m-medicine, sir," Thomas stuttered out.

"What'd'ya have?"

"T-tuberculosis."

Arthur hung his head and sighed.

"I... how do I say this? I... guess the debt's absolved."

The rest of the Downes family came outside, looking worried.

"Thank you, sir! Oh, thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah," Arthur replied, going back to his horse.

"You're a good man, sir."

He mounted his horse, taking the reins and looking off into the distance.

"I ain't."

Arthur rode off toward camp, saying it was him to the guard once he got back. When he dismounted and hitched his horse, he went directly to Strauss, ignoring the people who greeted him.

"Ah, Mr. Morgan. How did you get on?" Strauss asked once Arthur got to him.

"Just fine. Get up."

"What?"

"Get up," Arthur replied, grabbing onto Strauss' shoulder and pulling him up. He started leading Strauss to his tent.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago."

Arthur grabbed a bag and started packing Strauss' things, a crowd forming around them.

"I don't understand."

"I ain't gonna kill you," he said, roughly shoving a photo of Strauss' mother into the bag, "though I probably should."

He shut the bag, taking a couple steps toward the German.

"You disgust me, and you shame us, as if we could be shamed any more than we already are. That should do."

He took Strauss' notebook from his hands and replaced it with the bag. He threw the notebook on the ground.

"Go!" He exclaimed while walking toward Strauss, which made the other man walk backward.

"I don't understand you... what are you doing?"

He grabbed Strauss, throwing him out of camp.

"Go and get a job."

"I am your friend!"

"You and me, we ain't decent, but those folk, they was," Arthur said, taking out some cash from his satchel.

He threw it on the ground next to Strauss.

"Now, here, take that."

Strauss looked at him for a moment.

"Take that, and get lost!"

Strauss bent down, taking the money.

"I'm..." Strauss tried to say, before being cut off by Arthur.

"Leaving."

Strauss turned around and left the camp.

"You ain't gonna kick me out, are you?" Tilly stepped forward.

Arthur turned to her.

"No, you we need."

"What the hell is going on here?" Dutch stormed forward and caused the crowd to disperse.

"Letting go what we don't need," Arthur replied, staring defiantly into Dutch's eyes.

"He was helping!" Dutch raised his voice, gesturing off into the direction Strauss went.

"Oh yeah? How is giving money to people who can't pay it back 'help'!" Arthur raised his voice as well, stepping forward.

"At least he was loyal!"

That made him pause for a bit, until he walked forward again and made Dutch walk backward.

"You really wanna talk to me about loyalty?" Arthur tried to contain his anger, talking lowly so Dutch knew exactly who he was talking to. The rage nearly made him see red as Dutch backed into a tree.

"N-now, son, you know I didn't mean it like that." Dutch held up his hands.

"Twenty years, Dutch, and you mean to say that I ain't loyal?"

"Son, please, you have be-"

Dutch got cut off by a punch to the mouth. Hosea pulled Arthur off of Dutch, apologizing for him. Dutch ran off to his tent, cradling his mouth.

"What the hell was that?" Hosea asked, his brow raised and his mouth thin.

Arthur could physically feel Hosea's anger leave when he looked up to Hosea with tears in his eyes and a broken expression.

"Let's go," Hosea said, pulling him to the horses and making him get on Storm while he mounted Silver Bullet. They rode to somewhere kinda far away from camp, getting off the horses and sitting down on some rocks.

"Mind telling me what went on?"

Arthur sighed, turning his face away.

"Got it. I guess we'll just sit here until you do."

Hosea didn't even have to wait a minute before he got a reply.

"I... I don't know."

"Well, I heard some of it."

Arthur nodded, wiping at his eyes. Hosea put an arm around Arthur.

"I just," Arthur huffed out, turning more into Hosea, "I just think that Dutch has changed."

"Me too, Arthur. Me too."

Hosea let Arthur cry into his shoulder for however long Arthur needed, patting Arthur's shoulder once he was done.

"You done being a waterfall yet?" Hosea teased, smirking a bit.

Arthur huffed out a laugh, smiling after. He looked past Hosea's shoulder, seeing storm clouds.

"We should get back, I see a storm coming our way."

Hosea looked where he was looking, nodding sagely.

"Agreed," he said, looking back at Arthur, "Arthur?"

"Yeah?"

"When we get back, you will apologize. Understand?"

Arthur hung his head like a child being scorned.

"Yes, sir."

"Good, now let's get back before we get caught in this storm."

They mounted back on their horses, riding back to camp with the storm on their heels. Once they were back, Hosea said he'll take care of the horses. Arthur nodded, walking slowly to Dutch's tent and noticing the flaps were down.

"Dutch?" Arthur whispered when he got to the tent and leaning against the post.

Dutch turned one of the flaps inward a little, then shutting it once more when he saw Arthur.

"Wow, Arthur. Seems like you really pissed him off now," Micah said from behind him.

"Micah, shut your mouth right now before I do it for you," Arthur spoke lowly with a deep rumble.

Micah walked off with a "Have it your way, then."

"Dutch," Arthur tried again, sitting down.

No response this time.

"I'm sorry," he said, putting his head in his hands. He didn't care if he looked like less of a man now, he just wanted Dutch to forgive him.

He waited there until night, someone leaving two bowls of stew by him since Dutch wouldn't come out and he wouldn't move. He rose to his feet, hesitating before walking away.

"Good night, Dutch," he said, waiting for a bit before heading for his tent.

"Wait."

Dutch was standing where he stood when he turned, a hand holding a flap open and the other reaching out for him.

"You shouldn't be the one sorry, Arthur," Dutch said, dropping his hand that was reaching lamely.

"I was the one who threw the punch, didn't I?"

"Well, yes, but I guess I shouldn't have tried to get you to see the error of your ways, even though you've only made one."

Arthur chuckled lowly, not wanting to wake the camp. Dutch walked to him.

"And what's that, Dutch?"

"Not beating sense into me earlier."

Arthur smiled, huffing out a laugh.

"So when are you kicking out Micah?"

Dutch chuckled, putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Proof, Arthur, you need proof."

Oh, he'll get proof, alright.


	10. Horseshoe Overlook Part 7/Lake Don Julio Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dutch has a panic attack in this chapter, so if you don't want to read that, skip over it.

"We could go west now, we have enough money," Hosea was saying to Dutch.

"I know, my brother, but I want to see what else this place has to offer."

"I must be getting old, but I don't want the law after us again. We've just shaken them off."

Dutch was walking with Hosea to the cliff side, a chair in each hand, while Hosea had a book in his hand. The sun was shining down, making it easy for Arthur, who was in his tent, to believe everything was going to be alright.

"Think, Hosea," Dutch said, sitting down in one of the chairs, Hosea doing the same, "Would I let the law come after us?"

Hosea put his chin on a fist.

"Pardon me for being rude, Dutch, but, frankly, I don't think you wouldn't."

"Hosea!" Dutch looked at him in shock.

"I'm sorry, but I feel as if you're not the man you used to be."

"My friend, my dearest friend," Dutch leaned in, putting a hand on Hosea's shoulder, "we will get out of this, there should be no doubt about that. We need just a little bit more money, then we'll be gone."

Hosea stared into Dutch's eyes, looking for... something. Who Dutch used to be? A lie, perhaps? He didn't rightly know.

"Just look around us, Hosea," Dutch gestured to the camp, "We have some mighty fine people here, and I think, no, I  _know_ that we will have their power behind us."

Hosea sighed, closing his eyes for a bit. He turned his head right and opened his eyes again.

"I'll take your word on this, Dutch, but you have to know something that Arthur told me."

Dutch smiled and leaned back, pulling out a cigar from his vest. He lifted it to his mouth, bit the cap off and spat it out, nodding for Hosea to continue.

"He said to me that he, Charles and half a dozen others, including me, will be leaving in a month if the whole group doesn't move west by then."

Dutch paused, stopping the hand with a match in it midway to his mouth, Hosea looking back towards Dutch. It was silent for a few moments, Dutch staring into Hosea's eyes, with Hosea staring back, the shock and fear from the red vested man so palpable that Hosea could reach out and touch it. The tension was like a bullet being fired, waiting to hit its mark, but it already has and the blood has already been spilled, the body already removed and put into the cold hard ground. Ultimately, it was Dutch who spoke first.

"I..." he simply said. The match had gone out at that point, the cigar already fallen from his mouth. Dutch's hands were shaking too hard and fast, the horrible, revolting feeling deep inside him threatening to spill over as tears. He needed to vomit, the betrayal burning excessively hot, the absolute burning desire to _get_   _out already, god damn it!_ causing him to stand and walk unsteadily toward the edge of the cliff. He knelt and promptly started vomiting over the side, his combed hair falling down, the tears falling onto his cheeks. He gripped the edge so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Hosea held Dutch's hair back with one hand, his other rubbing circles into his back. Dutch lifted a hand when he was done vomiting, curling it into a fist, Hosea stepping back as a response. He punched the ground as hard as he could, and he was pretty sure he split one, if not two, of his knuckles open. He paid it no mind as he stood up shakily and walked to The Count, and when he noticed Hosea didn't follow him, he mounted and rode off into the distance.

"So, what's up with ol' Dutch?" Arthur asked Hosea as he stepped up behind the old man from his position at the edge of the cliff.

"I told him what you said to me," Hosea responded, walking with Arthur to his chair. Arthur sat down next to him, resting his arms on his knees.

"What happened?"

"I can't say I know."

"Well, it looked pretty bad."

Hosea sighed and nodded sagely.

"He'll be fine, he probably just needs to fool some people into givin' him their money," Arthur continued.

Hosea barked out a short laugh.

"Most likely."

"So, what do you think we'll do now?"

"Head west, maybe to New Austin."

Arthur chuckled. "That'd be a nice change."

Hosea nodded.

The two of them continued talking for a good while, not noticing Micah leaving after Dutch. Their conversation lasted until Dutch came riding back into camp with a bruised face. Dutch looked out of it, like he was going to fall off hi- and there he goes. Dutch let out a moan of pain when he hit the ground, his hand flying to his side.

"Dutch!" Molly hurried over to him from the crowd that had formed, kneeling down beside him and resting her hands on his arm.

Hosea and Arthur rushed over to him, with Hosea kneeling down as well and Arthur dispersing the crowd.

"Dutch, Dutch, look at me," Hosea was saying, "What happened?"

Dutch breathed out shakily, giving a pained nod of appreciation to Arthur as he guided Dutch's horse to the posts.

"I seem to have gotten into a fight," 

"Well, I can see that, Dutch," Molly said indignantly, standing with her hands on her hips.

"Do you need help getting up?"

"I've got it," Dutch huffed out, slowly getting up with a hiss.

"Why do you look like that?" Arthur asked from behind him.

Dutch turned around to face Arthur.

"Some government asshole was drunk, but not too drunk as to not notice his wallet being taken from him."

"Did anything else happen?" Molly asked.

"That was it."

Dutch turned and walked with Molly to his tent, an arm around her shoulders.

\------

The next day came with Arthur coming back from a hunt with Charles with two deer. Over the course of this day, he did things for Mary, who was in Valentine for the time being. He also robbed the bank with Hosea and Dutch, mainly to get Dutch's mind off of yesterday. The robbery went smooth, reminding Arthur of the early times of the gang, where it was just him, Dutch, Annabelle, Hosea, and Bessie. Dutch was certainly more articulate in that time, and as the years passed, it seemed to Arthur that he was becoming a shadow of his former self, but today, the man who Arthur came to recognize as a father figure was clearer and smoother. The amount that they took made Dutch satisfied, and so, when they rode back into camp, Dutch announced to the camp that they were heading to New Austin through the long route.

Of course, Susan immediately handed out orders, making the women pack up the tents and the men to load everything onto the wagons. Arthur had let Kieran free, ordering him roughly to take care of the horses, the smaller man frantically nodding and hurrying to do so. Arthur had a fire in his eyes as he took command of the camp, Hosea letting him do so only because Dutch's side was bruised and battered and he looked exhausted, the stress of the past week finally getting to him. It wasn't often that Arthur was at the helm, as he often was at the crow's nest, so to speak. Who was he to lead them through the valley of death? Who was he to be Abel when all he was was Cain? He was like the blind leading the blind. His sin against the good Lord above was his cross to bear, his journey to Nod, as it were. As he ruminated through his thoughts, he found himself at the seat of the front wagon with Dutch beside him, and Hosea and John in the back. They headed off, Arthur finding himself talking with Dutch about the Bible, God, and living a Christian lifestyle as an outlaw.

"I mean, the Ten Commandments state that I shouldn't kill, steal, lie, or be jealous, but I've done all those things," Arthur says to Dutch as the convoy passes through the mountains into the great plains.

"Do not worry yourself, son, for God loves you nonetheless." Dutch puts a hand on his shoulder.

Arthur tilts his head, brow furrowing. Confusion ran him through with its fiery sword, his throat tightening.

"Arthur, just have in mind John 3:16 whenever you doubt yourself," Hosea piped up from the back.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life," Dutch recited.

Arthur nodded slowly in thought, another Bible verse coming to mind: Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4 always reminded him of Dutch, the paragon of hope and light to him, for Arthur was the darkness and he cannot see without his light.

"It's hard to see that, Dutch," Arthur said, looking at him for but a second. The sun was rising behind them, casting a strange shadow on them, the landscape slowly coming to life.

"Then I'll be there to remind you." Dutch looked forward.

Arthur 'hmm'ed.

"We should probably switch, I haven't slept since two nights ago," Arthur stated.

Dutch nodded, taking the reins from him and standing to let Arthur slide over, moving to where he used to sit when Arthur settled.

"For now, sleep, my son. We are safe."

Arthur let his eyes close, falling asleep rather quickly.

\------

They arrived in Armadillo a couple days later, changing drivers often to let people rest, and leaving the wagons on the south side of town with half a dozen people to guard said wagons: Micah, Javier, Tilly, Lenny, Bill, and Sean to be exact. They also left Jack behind, too, so he could be watched. The rest of them headed into town, either to look for work or to look for someone selling land. Turns out there is someone selling land, the name of whom Arthur forgot immediately when Dutch and Hosea told him to gather everyone that went into town in the saloon. It was quite a sight of fourteen people walking into the saloon, guns on either their hips or backs or both. The women, along with Kieran, went upstairs to sit down, as there wasn't enough space for all fourteen of them, while most of the men went to the bar.

They each ordered a beer, laughing at what Uncle was saying, the man regaling a tale from his early adult life. This was how it was for about an hour when the other two old men walked in and perched up at the bar.

"Well, my friends, it seems we have a prospect," Dutch jovially said.

The men cheered in good faith, raising up their glasses and clinking them. Meanwhile, Susan was watching them with an odd smile, the other ladies half-asleep from the way Molly was speaking.

Hours later, when they set up camp down by Lake Don Julio on the northeast side, since that was the place the man sold them, and most of them asleep with the stars shining down onto them, Arthur sat by the lake, thinking. They would need to get the wood for houses, since surely everyone would hate being in one house, they would need a barn, stables, hell, even some fencing if they want cattle. What about the law? The bounty hunters? Arthur felt himself diving down into the dark depths of his mind, doing nothing to stop it, until the light of Dutch rang through his head, reassuring him and bringing him from the brink. Arthur stood, heading to his tent and seeing Micah leaning on a post next to it.

"What do you want, Micah?" Arthur asked gruffly, pulling open a tent flap.

"Arthur, you know what I want," Micah creepily replied.

"'m afraid I don't, and I don't want to know."

"The King will lose his way without his Guard, Compass and Prince."

"What does that even mean?"

"You'll know soon enough," Micah said in an eerie tone. He grinned and walked back to his own tent. Arthur, meanwhile, pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming along. He got ready for bed and fell asleep before anything else could bother him.

The morning after, he rose with a head-splitting headache, so he gripped the side of his head with one hand while using the other to ready himself for the day. What Micah said last night came to mind, sticking with him as he stepped out of the tent and went over to Pearson's wagon to get a coffee.

"Fine day it is," Pearson greeted, filling his mug up with a smile.

Arthur nodded and graciously took the mug when Pearson was done.

"What sort of slop you feeding us today?" Arthur teased.

"Please, Arthur, it's too early for this."

"Better be edible," Arthur snickered.

"Arthur."

"Probably not, though, knowing you." Arthur chuckled.

"Arthur, just go."

Arthur laughed, walking away with a grin. When he passed the girls' wagon, Karen stopped him.

"So what's got our grumpy cowboy in such a good mood?" Karen ragged him, the other ladies giggling. Arthur's smile quickly fell away.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, I saw that smile." Karen smirked.

He took a long sip of coffee, shaking his head and sighing.

"I just can't hide anything from you ladies, can I?" Arthur asked, walking over to a box and sitting down, with Karen doing the same.

"We've known you for a long time, Arthur, you can't hide," Tilly said, picking apart a seam that was done wrong on some pants.

"I guess so," Arthur sighed, taking another sip from his mug.

"You never answered my question," Karen commented.

"Oh, it's nothing. If I told you, you'd probably be bored to tears."

"Come on, Arthur, let's hear it," Karen responded, the other ladies voicing agreements.

Arthur sighed, sipping at his coffee.

"I guess it's just that we're not being chased by the law."

"Ain't that the truth," Tilly flatly remarked.

"Hear, hear," Karen said, raising up a fist for a second.

"Well, I gotta go," Arthur said, standing up.

"See you," Mary-Beth said, Tilly and Karen doing the same as he walked away toward Dutch's tent.

"Arthur, how good to see you," Dutch greeted with a smile when Arthur stepped up to him. It seemed to Arthur that Dutch's light spread out to him, cutting away at the darkness of his soul.

"Yep," Arthur replied, taking a sip of coffee. His mug was half-empty by now.

"Come in, we've got something to tell you," Dutch said, waving him inside his tent. Dutch closed the tent flap after him, signaling that he wanted privacy from the camp. Hosea and John were both inside the tent as well, John on the ground and Hosea on the cot.

"We have found someone willing to provide us with materials," Hosea said, getting straight to the point as Dutch sat on the cot as well. Arthur chose to stand by John, who looked out of it and like he wanted to fall back asleep. Arthur kicked him lightly on the leg to wake him up.

"How's that goin'?" Arthur asked, feeling John hit his leg with a fist. He kicked John again, trying not to smile.

"It is going well, our business partner," Dutch started, furrowing his brow, "Would you two stop that?"

John and Arthur nodded quickly like two children who just got caught doing something bad.

"As I was saying," Dutch continued, "our business partner is from the lumber company, and he's willing to supply us with logs from Tall Trees since we can't go into West Elizabeth without people wanting to kill us."

"This is our only chance, so we're counting on you two not to screw this up," Hosea piped up in a no-nonsense tone.

"Got it," John grumbled.

"Understood," Arthur replied.

"By the way, we told him that you two's last name is Callahan," Dutch said, smiling when Arthur rolled his eyes.

John and Arthur stepped out of the tent when the two old men dismissed them with a location of their new business partner and that he would be there in the evening. Arthur chugged the rest of his coffee.

"When should we leave, they didn't exactly give us a time," John muttered to him. His voice was like gravel grinding against gravel.

"How 'bout the afternoon? We'll have plenty of time," Arthur muttered back.

"Sure. Say, have you seen Uncle? I have something to say to him, I think?" John asked.

"Pretty sure he ain't up yet, so how's 'bout you let sleeping dogs lie?"

John threw up his hands, walking away with a groan of frustration. Arthur shook his head, heading back over to Pearson.

"You here to patronize me more?" Pearson asked him.

Arthur set down the mug on the table.

"No, but I can, if you want," Arthur smugly said, smirking.

"Please don't," Pearson pleaded.

"Please do," Sadie begged, chopping up some vegetables.

"Nah, it's much more fun when he don't expect it," Arthur said, walking away.

Afternoon came by faster than expected, when all he was doing was sitting at one of the tables with John, Micah, and Lenny. Micah was, of course, mocking Lenny, and Lenny, of course, was in a bad mood because of that. Micah's statement from last night once more came to mind as he stood and walked with John to the horses.

"What was the location again?" John asked.

"Benedict Point, dumb ass," Arthur ridiculed.

"Why'd you call me dumb ass for, asshole?" John growled as he got on his horse.

Arthur did the same after checking the saddle.

"You know, you're not that dumb, especially after that deal with your friends."

"Lemme guess, the wolves?"

They set out towards Benedict Point at a gallop.

"Exactly. See, you're not that dumb. Maybe you should've let the wolves eat all of your brain, maybe then you'd be a genius."

"Shut up."

"You just ask stupid questions, you should listen more."

John sighed.

"Look, I see the point you're trying to make, and I appreciate it, I really do, but do you  _have_ to say it rudely?"

"Of course."

The two of them went right at the third crossroad coming from the lake.

"Shut up then."

"Alright," Arthur relented with a content smile.

About twenty minutes later, they reached Benedict Point and hitched their horse at the hitching post. They walked into the station and sat down on a bench, the post office worker greeting them.

"How about you rest? You don't look so good," Arthur commented.

"I'll be fine," John replied.

Not even five minutes later, John fell asleep while leaning on him. Before he could be even more embarrassed, Arthur carefully laid him down and sat away from him.

"He your brother?" The post office worker asked.

"Something like that, I guess."

The man chuckled.

"What's your name?"

"Arthur Callahan, and you?"

"James Miller."

"Well, it's mighty fine to meet you."

"Are you two here for a train?"

"We're meeting someone here."

"Ah. I'll leave you two alone, then."

Arthur nodded with a smile.

Hours passed, hordes of people coming and going through the doors, the sun setting and John waking before then. The man Arthur supposed was their partner walked in and towards them. He was a stout man, all the more pronounced by his weight, suit and top hat. He had a handlebar mustache and sideburns that Arthur envied and wanted for himself. The outlaw stood once the other man stepped up to them, gesturing for John to do the same. He held out his hand, the man taking it and firmly shaking it.

"Henry Douglas, my good sirs," the man spoke, taking John's hand and shaking it firmly as well.

"I'm Arthur Callahan and this is my brother, John."

"It is good to meet you, I have heard so much about you. It's such a shame that your mother passed when you two were just children."

At this, John raised his hand up to his face, beginning his fake crying, which actually sounded pretty real.

"Yes, well, John is still mourning her, since he was closer to her after all. Are you alright, John?"

John waved them off, turning away.

"In that case, I am sorry to bring it up," Henry said, voice full of regret.

John got out his handkerchief and brought it to his eyes.

"It's fine," John said with fake despair. Arthur tried not to smile, only successfully doing so because of the circumstance.

"Here, let's sit down so we can talk business, alright?" Arthur gestured toward the bench.

"Yes, let's."

The three of them sat down, talking for quite a while about where to send the logs and other materials and tools they may need. Henry pulled out a pocket watch, gasping in shock at the time.

"I am sorry, but I have to leave. I am late to something," Henry exclaimed and standing.

"That's fine, thank you for doing business with us," Arthur said and stood as well. He shook Henry's hand again, sending him off with a grin. Once he was out of earshot, John and Arthur left the building with loud laughter.

"I can't believe you fucking cried!" Arthur exclaimed between laughs.

"I can't believe it worked!" John expressed between laughs.

Once their laughter died down, they got on their horses and started to head back to camp.

"I'm glad you were the one with me," John said gratefully.

"Sure."

They arrived back not long after, Dutch and Hosea walking up to them as they hitched their horses.

"How'd it go?" Hosea asked.

"Pretty well, if I do say so myself," Arthur replied.

"You can rely on the Callahans," John said.

Arthur and John shared a laugh, Dutch and Hosea chuckling.

"You two should head to bed, now," Dutch advised.

Arthur nodded, with John immediately heading to his shared tent with his family.

"Did you rob him?" Dutch asked with a smirk.

Arthur pulled out Henry's wallet from his satchel.

"That's what I like to see." Dutch took the wallet, walking to the camp box and adding it there.

"You really should get to bed," Hosea said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Sure. See you in the morning."

Arthur headed to his tent, stepping in and getting ready for bed. He fell asleep a while later, the statement that Micah made yesterday bothering him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but it seems necessary. also, wow, i use indignant a lot.


	11. Lake Don Julio Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait, guys, i had to take a break from writing for a while because it was making my mental health suffer.  
> next time there's a break, it (hopefully) won't be as long.

The next day comes with materials. The next week comes with workers. The next month comes with a promise.

Over the past few weeks, while he has been toiling in the heat of the work and the sun, he comes to realize a few things.

It is when he's raising a barn that he realizes that Hosea, not Dutch, has been the steady hand that guided him, that led him through dark and light times, that taught him. He taught him how to be a man, how to read, write and draw, how to reign in his temper.

It is when he's shingling the roof of his shanty that he realizes that while Dutch was acting like a father to him, which did boost his morale and confidence, it was Hosea who actually cared and watched out for him. He has to admit that Dutch did care, at least a little, but the Dutch that he knows now is not the Dutch he knew.

It is when he's finishing the little church for Orville that he struggles with his thoughts; his thoughts of wanting to be alone and yet not, his thoughts of this shift in paradigm, his thoughts of want, of anger, of fear(?), of longing. He finds he cannot be bothered to talk to anyone, cannot be bothered to wash or to shave, cannot be bothered to eat, for all he wants to do is lose himself in the work.

When all is said and done, and when the ranch is all built and the workers have left, it is then that Hosea comes up to him, him being the malnourished dirty overworked man he is, and Hosea just lays his hand on his shoulder, he suddenly understands. He understands why God has led him to this point, why he has led him down the path of devoted work.

It is so he can take a break.

'That's it?' he thinks, 'Surely there must be something else.'

But no, there is nothing else to be discovered or realized.

The next Sunday, they dressed in their Sunday best and waited in the pews of the little church they made, and wow, isn't that disorienting, for Orville. Finally, he had stepped in and rushed to the altar. He preached for about an hour when he called it to a close with a prayer.

"Lord, I speak for all of us malefactors," there was a snicker there, "when I say that your goodwill has been graciously put upon us, and we will work to be honest. Ladies and gentlemen, please repeat the Lord's prayer after me."

After they did so and they raised their heads, Sean spoke derisively.

"Gee, Orville, I've never heard ya speak that passionate b'fore."

The Reverand looked towards his direction and smiled, almost like he was hiding something.

"Well, Sean, I've never seen you sober."

There it was. The gang got rowdy, save for some of the women, namely Susan.

Dutch stood and cleared his throat loudly, which quieted them.

"I don't know about you all, but I am starving. Pearson, why don't you fix us something to eat?"

Pearson stood and started for the door, but stopped when he heard Uncle call out: "Make it edible this time!" He shook his head and continued walking, this time with people following. John lagged behind with Arthur at the back of the crowd, the younger having a pensive look on his face.

"What you thinking 'bout, boy?" Arthur antagonized.

John furrowed his brow and set his jaw.

"Why ain't you talk to me lately?" he suddenly asked.

"What?"

"I said, why ain't you talk to me lately?" John asked gruffly.

Arthur stopped, John stopping with him, and stared off into space for a hot second.

"I... I can't say as I know."

"Why?"

Arthur shrugged. John sighed. The birds chirped. The sun shined. The clouds moved with the wind. The flowers shared their scent. They stood there for a while, just breathing and looking for something in the other's eyes. Eventually, the tension broke and the two joined the others for lunch, John to Dutch's left and Arthur at Hosea's right who was on Dutch's right.

"Well, it took you two long enough to get here, we were about to eat without you," Dutch said, smiling with ease.

"We had to have a little talk, didn't we, lil Johhny," Arthur grinned.

John gave an 'if looks could kill' look at Arthur, who laughed.

Hosea gave a good-natured chuckle.

"I don't think it was much of a talk but a little confrontation, right?"

"It seems so," Dutch replied for the two, who were having a conversation with their eyes in the way only siblings can, be it blood or chosen.

The food came out then, a tray of just a roast of beef and mixed vegetables, a tray of another roast of lamb with more mixed vegetables, a tray of bread with strawberry/cranberry jam and eggs with cheese, and a tray of drinks.

Arthur's stomach growled, he was still a little malnourished so he only took a slice of beef and bread, some vegetables, and a coffee. When everyone put food on their plates and drinks in their cups, Dutch stood and started on a speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?"

All eyes turned toward him, finally filled with hope after so long of running with their tails between their legs like some kicked dog.

"We have finally reached our dream, and now is the time to lay low until the heat we have stirred up settles. After losing poor Jenny, Davey, and Mac, this is the time to work, the time to rest, and the time to think."

"It is time to think of who you are and what you want. Do you want the outlaw life or do you want the honest life? Now's the time to decide, and after you eat, if you have chosen outlaw, talk to me and I will send you on your way."

Dutch stopped and silently asked if Hosea wanted to say something. The older man stood with a sigh, his joints popping as he did so.

"For those who chose the honest life, speak with me after you eat. That is all I have to say," Hosea simply said.

He sat back down, staring at Dutch with tired eyes. Dutch asked if Arthur had anything to say as well, the younger doing the same as Hosea.

"Now, I know I ain't exactly been the most kind, or the most helpful, or even the most useful, but if you have concerns, questions or comments on how this is being run, just knock on my door, which is admittedly a bit weird to say," A few chuckles at that, "because all my life, all I've known is the cold hard ground and the elements ragin' on, so to suddenly have shelter after who knows how long is starling. But we will adjust, as we always have and always will. Thank you, and sorry for speaking so long."

Arthur situated back on his chair, and Dutch did the same after calling them to eat. He ate slowly, first eating the vegetables, which had some honey glazed on it and Arthur didn't care to know how they did it because it was delicious, then the bread, which he dipped in the leftover sauce of the veggies and making it soft to chew, and finally the beef, which was slow roasted over the course of six hours, taking sips of his coffee all the while.

"Dutch," Arthur called his attention.

Dutch turned his eyes toward him, nodding for him to continue as he was still eating.

"I... It seems I can't get out of my head what Micah said to me last month."

Dutch furrowed his brow, swallowing the food he'd been chewing for about thirty seconds. Hosea and John perked up, listening in to their conversation.

"What'd he say to you, son?"

"'The King will lose his way without his his Guard, Compass and Prince.' Now, I don't know about you, but I haven't the faintest of what that means."

"Micah seems to be saying this about us," Hosea interjected.

"You know as well as I do that Micah makes no sense," John added.

Arthur nodded and chuckled.

"Well, until we figure it out, I wouldn't worry about it, son," Dutch said with finality.

"Just come to us if you think you have an answer," Hosea also said.

John just nodded a little, a bit like he was holding back.

"We'll see," Arthur put his other dishes on his plate, and rose, "I gotta go see the elephant, I'll see ya 'round."

He walked off when the others said their goodbyes and 'see you later's, heading towards the barn to get his horse saddled and bridled, making sure the skirts were on properly. Once he did so, he mounted and started towards Tumbleweed. On the way there, he saw the blind stranger from the east, so he paid him a quarter and got his fortune.

"Death begets life, life begets death. Fate will decide for you, and you will decide for fate," the old man said, completely confusing Arthur.

He tipped his hat before remembering the blind man was, well, blind and thanking the man anyway for his words. He rode on, helping a stranger with the wheel that fell off her wagon and riding some more, finally making it to Tumbleweed. He hitched Storm at the saloon, dismounted and sauntering in. He went up to the bar, sat on a stool next to a burly black man and laid a quarter on the counter for a whiskey.

Four whiskeys and a bar fight later, meaning forty-five minutes later, Arthur, who was a bit tipsy, stood up shakily and laid a dollar on the counter for the barman to keep as an apology and stumbled out the door to his horse and got on him. He trusted Storm to bring him back to the lake, so two hours later, with Storm at a lope, he made it back.

He stumbled when he tried to dismount, falling to the ground and muttering to himself as he held his head.

"Arthur Morgan," Miss Grimshaw's shrill voice came to him.

He groaned as he slowly started to get up, 'helped' along by the woman herself.

"Just look at you, all dirtied and bloodied up. What in Sam hill happened to you?" She roughly asked, brushing off some dirt on the back of his jacket.

"Bar fight," he muttered lowly, clearing his throat and sniffling. Some blood dripped onto his shirt from his nose.

She quietly ushered him to his house and made him strip while she heated up water for a bath. He slowly took off his jacket in pain, the rest of his outfit following suit. He laid his gun belt carefully on the table by his recliner as to not have it go off. When Miss Grimshaw said she was finished and the water was warm enough, he hissed as he stepped into the bath, only sighing in relief when he sat down.

"You can go, Miss Grimshaw," Arthur said through closed eyes and blood running down his chin.

"Only if you're sure."

Her voice sounded like she was at the door.

"I am."

She left him, the soft click of the door being the only noise, and then silence.

He went to bed soon after taking his bath, scarred both physically and socially.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you guys want to see next, the feedback will definitely help.


	12. The Finale Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the endgame now bois
> 
> also one of my friends has a tumblr and a twitter, check them out:  
> https://voidtones.tumblr.com/  
> https://twitter.com/voidtones

He wakes up to the golden stag laying his head on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He thinks this may be a dream, that his house was locked up, right? But no, when he realizes what's going on, the buck lifts his head and grunts. He hastily stands, not only spooking the buck, who bleats in fear and tries to run away but got caught by Arthur stopping him by wrapping his arms around the stag's neck, but also knocking over his bedside stand. Luckily, the lantern had been snuffed, but now there was glass and kerosene to clean up. Both he and the stag breathe heavily for a moment before their combined breaths calm.

"Okay," he breathes in deeply, then sighs on the exhale, "Why are you here?"

Images of the golden stag appearing when he saved Jimmy Brooks, absolved the debt of Thomas Downes, when he kicked out Strauss, and when he was sleeping on the ride here flood his mind.

He was silent for a while before he decided that he would let the stag go. He did so, smoothing his fur and muttering an apology. The deer butted his head against Arthur's stomach, the antlers going perfectly around his waist. He carefully pats the stag's head.

"I've got to clean what's left of my lantern up," He mutters lowly, somewhat in disbelief over this whole thing.

The buck seems to nod, moving away and heading out of his bedroom. He starts picking up the pieces of the said lantern, sighing because that was his favorite one. It had been given to him by Hosea way back in 1878 when he was still uncertain about his placement in what would later be known as The Old Guard and he still had nightmares about his father being killed pettily for five dollars. He heads out to the main area, chuckling at the sight of the stag sitting in his chair, putting the glass in the bin. He brushes off the tiny bits to make sure he doesn't get cut, and walks back into his bedroom and picking up his handkerchief (nicknamed Stebrand) from the dresser. He gets to work cleaning up the kerosene, setting the bedside stand upright after he throws the now very dirty handkerchief into his dirty clothes basket. He checks inside the stand, satisfied that nothing broke while everything was going on. He heads over to his dresser, picking out his usual outfit, minus the hat, and throwing it on a bit haphazardly, and goes to face what's in his chair.

Once he gets out there, the deer perks his head up, slowly blinking as if he trusts Arthur. He furrows his brow and tilts his head, scratching his head when the stag does the same.

"What are you?" He asks after a while, almost breathless at the sight of the golden light coming off of the deer he just now realizes he sees.

His mind gets flooded again, this time of every single good action he has made so far.

"..So, you- You are my conscious?"

The buck stares at him blankly, before seeming to realize Arthur can't read minds and bobbing his head in a nod.

"Okay. So," he sniffles, "so if you're here, where's the wolf?"

Apparently, just by asking that, the wolf appears, who immediately goes into an offensive pose, her hackles raised and getting ready to attack, snarling, growling and baring her teeth. And the buck, ever so calm, simply steps off Arthur's chair and lowers his head in a defensive manner so that his antlers are what you'll touch first and grunting so low Arthur could barely hear it, but the combination of the buck grunting and the wolf growling made his own hackles raise. However, he steps into the fray anyway, lamely holding his hands out to each of them.

It happens. The wolf pounces, the stag charges and Arthur tries to stop both of them. He does successfully manage to get the wolf to stop, who clamps down on his right arm with her mouth making him yell in pain, but the deer continues on, grazing his other arm with his antlers, hitting the wall and falling into his bathtub. The wolf growls from her position. He hyperventilates, each breath out coming with a noise of agony.

"C-can you... release m-my arm?" He struggles to get out, certain he's gonna get an infection. The wolf complies after a while, still very angry, it appears, at him, at the buck, at possibly the world.

He cradles his right arm, only to let it drop to his side when he notices not only the pain went away but also the discoloration and the bite marks were gone as well. He contorts his face in confusion, bringing his arm back up and staring at it at length. The stag gets out of the tub, going to the wolf seemingly to calm her down, which strangely looks to work, her hackles lowering and her teeth being covered and her eyes intelligently looking at Arthur. Arthur, however, does not notice, as he still staring at his arm in amazement, when the wolf walks up to him, sits and whimpers in a friendly sort of way.

Arthur jumps, startled out of his mind for a hot second, stepping a few steps back when he realizes it was the wolf. The wolf whined, stepping toward him and he allows it since she's not acting hostile. He reaches out and touches her, running his hand through her soft fur. There seems to be a connection between softness and anger in her, although Arthur could not tell you how he knows this. Perhaps it is because the wolf symbolizes something in him? Perhaps. Perhaps not. He doesn't know.

There's a knock at the door, which the wolf and the stag respond to by disappearing. He furrows his brow before deciding to worry about it later and going to the door when there's another knock.

"Okay, I'm coming," he calls out to the person at his door. When he gets to the door, he opens it to Charles.

"Arthur." Charles' voice sends a chill down his spine.

"Charles! Come on in," he replies, stepping aside to let Charles in, and the other man immediately goes to the second chair. Arthur heads to the kitchen area, opening one of the cupboards and grabbing two metal mugs and a bottle of whiskey. He walks back to his chair, sits down and sets the drink and mugs on the footstool in between them, opening the bottle and pouring out an acceptable amount of whiskey for the morning. He caps the bottle and sets it the table by his chair, all the while Charles thanks him and grabs the mug. Arthur also grabs the mug, taking a sip that wakes him up.

"I have a question," Charles says, simply holding the mug.

"Sure."

"What happened when you decided not to talk to anyone?"

The question hangs the air like a deer that's been shot and is on the run, but it's Arthur that's been shot and Charles is the hunter, and Arthur can't breathe. Both sit in silence,  _seems like there's a lot of that recently_ , for a while before Arthur speaks up.

"I.. I guess I just wanted to get this ranch built while I could."

"And that's cause to isolate yourself?" Charles' words came off as calculated, causing Arthur's sense of danger to rise, a side effect of his life, of living in the streets and of living with Dutch and Hosea.

"What was I to do, huh? Be all 'civilized'!" He raises his voice some, waiting for the inevitable snap that's to come.

"You don't have to do this alone!"

There's the snap. Goddammit, why can't he just speak to someone without getting angry? He turns his head away from Charles and clenches his jaw; he's more angry at himself than anything, and he doesn't want to anger Charles anymore than he has.

"Come on, Dutch has an announcement," Charles says, standing and putting the still full mug on the footstool. Arthur knocks back the rest of the whiskey, stands and follows Charles out of his house to the main one, the one where Dutch, Hosea, Susan, and Micah are staying. He follows Charles inside quietly, where the rest of the gang is, chattering up a storm.

He now sees Dutch on the main stairs, lavishly dressed, and he sees Dutch ring an ornate bell,  _strange, he didn't know Dutch had that_ , to get their attention. Once everyone has quieted, the man speaks.

"My dear friends, I have had the opportunity to speak with Micah, and we have decided to take everyone who chose the first choice last night with us on a new path."

It was safe to say everyone who chose the latter last night complained loudly, save for Arthur and Jack. Speaking of Jack, Arthur felt him tug his sleeve, and when he looked down, he saw him.

"Uncle Arthur?"

He got down on one knee, giving his full attention to Jack, whose expression was fearful.

"Yes, Jack?" He spoke in what he hoped was a soothing tone, the effect of which was almost immediately shown on Jack's face.

"Can we go outside?"

"Sure," he said, smiling as he got up and held out his hand for Jack to grab. He took the boy outside to the porch, picking him up and setting him on one of the chairs, Arthur himself sitting in the one besides Jack.

"What's on your mind, boy?" Arthur asked, once again giving his full attention to Jack, the boy squirming under Arthur's gaze. Jack was a lot like John in that regard, John would always squirm under Arthur's stare no matter if he was on a job with him or if he was in camp doing chores, but lately, it seems John has outgrown that. Pity, he liked seeing John do that.

Finally, Jack speaks. "Why is Uncle Dutch going away?"

Arthur looks towards the horizon for that question, furrowing his brow,  **you're doing it again** , and blinking away the sensation of what he assumes is the wolf's voice in his head. He turns his head towards Jack, his hands itching to draw him like this, the sun on the boy's face, the railing casting shadows on him, but instead he has to wait until later so he puts it aside in his head.

"I'm wondering the same thing, Jack," Jack looks down at his feet at that, "but you'll always have your ma and pa with you, no matter what."

"What about you?" Jack's voice sounds hopeful, his face also looking hopeful. God, but Jack's such an open book, just like his mother.

"I can't promise that, but I can promise I'll do what I can." Another empty promise, but it's not like he had a choice, not when Jack looks so hopeful, so optimistic.

"Okay!" Jack brightly says, standing up from the chair and going back inside.

Arthur sighs, running a hand down his face. He hates when he does this, hates when he makes promises he can't keep. He hears the door open again, and when he looks up, it's Hosea.

"Why are you out here?" Hosea immediately asks when he slowly sits in the chair Jack was sitting in, getting straight to the point.

"Jack," he simply says in a flat tone.

Hosea nods, letting Arthur speak.

\------

It's a good two hours until the conversation between them comes to a lull, Hosea smiling warmly as he stands, pats Arthur's shoulder once he too stands and goes back inside the house. When he looks inside, the place looks empty so he just heads back to his own house with a smile. However, that falls once he sees Micah walking up to him.

"What do you want?" Arthur gruffly asks of him, silently enjoying the fact that Micah's face is sour.

"Dutch wanted me to ask you something, cowpoke." God, but his voice sounds as sickening as ever.

"Well, come on, spit it out before I make you," he says, his right hand going to his belt near his knife.

Micah sighs for what seems to be the first time in his life. "He wanted to know if you wanted to come with us."

Arthur raises his brow, before lowering it, getting out his knife and pointing it at Micah. Again for what seems to be the first time in his life, Micah's face actually shows fear as Arthur grabs the other man by the shirt and raising the knife to his throat.

"Anywhere you're going, I don't want to be. You got that, or do I have to carve it into you?"

"Oh come on, cowpoke, we both know you won't kill me," Micah taunts, his voice still as sickening as ever.

"Who said I would kill you? Or do you want me to, which I am tempted to do."

Micah's actually silent for once, which Arthur, not wanting to touch Micah any longer than he has to, rewards by shoving him back and putting his knife away. That turned out to be a mistake because Micah drew his stupid revolver and made Arthur stare down the barrel.

"Arthur!" Charles' voice broke through the air, making Arthur both relieved and scared as Charles ran towards them. Relieved because Charles had his gun with him and Arthur didn't have his,  ** _stupid_** , and scared because what if Charles got hurt or killed?

"Oh look, there's your boyfriend, cowpoke," Micah derides him.

"Boyfriend? What?"

"Oh yes, I saw how you tw-" Whatever Micah was going to say was cut off by Charles tackling the asshole to the ground and punching him in the nose, a sickening and sweet 'crack' was heard as it connected. Arthur saunters up to them, crossing his arms and watching as Micah uselessly tries to fight 240 lbs of pure muscle mercilessly beating him to shit.

"Alright, Charles," Charles stops for a moment, his fist stopping where it is and his head turning to look at him. As always, Charles' face is as blank as a canvas.

"Yes?"

"Lemme at him."

Charles simply steps off, letting Arthur step over Micah. Micah's attempts to get up or fight back were stopped by Arthur's hand at his throat, although Micah's disgusting hands were on his wrist weakly now.

**Kill him.** _Spare him._

The stag and the wolf temporarily take control of him, his eyes changing along with it, although he doesn't know that as he decides to let Micah go, the disgusting whelp of a man crawling away from him to Dutch.

"With his injuries, he'll only last a couple of days," Charles calmly tells him as he cleans the blood off his hand with Stebrend.

"Good, I hope that fucking rat dies," Arthur says, putting his handkerchief away in his satchel. He walks over the two steps to Charles, gesturing his head to his home. Charles nods and walks with Arthur to the house, walking in when Arthur opens the door. They head to the chairs, sitting down. Arthur sighs.

"Sorry for earlier," Arthur mutters.

"It's alright, you just gotta let me know if I can help you," Charles mutters as well, "You're not alone in this."

"Sure," he says while laying his head against the back of his recliner. He knows this, of course, but he hates bothering people with his problems. He'd rather deal with it on his own.

\-----

Later, when Charles went to the secondary house, which is where the main gang was staying and which included John, Abigail, and Jack, and when he wrote in his journal after a long time, he prepares a meal of canned beans and a leg of venison. He turns around with his bowl when it's finished, and almost drops it when he gets startled by the stag staring at him.

"Jesus," he breathes out, putting the bowl on the table in front of him as to not drop it.

The deer turns his head left towards the secondary house, making Arthur breathe out a 'huh' in response.

"Y'know, I was just thinking 'bout that house..." he looks to the side for a moment and looks back, "Should I go over there?"

What appeared to be pictures of the future present themselves, showing John in Saint Denis with Charles, John at Beecher's Hope with his newly created ranch and his family in his arms, JOHN DYING AT THE HANDS OF THE PINKERTONS- he shakes them off with a hand running down his face.

"I suppose I'd better get over there."


End file.
